Playlist for the Apocalypse
by Frostfoot-Dreamleaf
Summary: It's been eight months since Betty and her traveling companion has seen a living human. It's been nine months since the world, in short, has ended. Betty is only now realizing that the world is screwed and it's not going to magically right itself, so the only way on is forward. Somehow, she- and Sweet Pea- are going to survive this. Sweet Pea/Betty, Zombie Apocalypse!AU
1. Hidden Track: Zombie

_December 31, 2017_

New Year's Eve of 2017 will not go down in any history books. People will not look back on it as the day the world ended. Historians may never realize how, as the clock ticked it's way to the new year, the world would cease to exist before it ever began.

It was not the date of the end of the world. It was the date that was the end of the beginning.

The only people left who would be able to tell you that died fairly early on. It's not as though people are in the habit of marking things down anyway; no, history is for later. During a war, it's about survival.

That's the thought of one of the lead scientists as he's frantically trying to escape the labs. He thinks that one day someone might know this date as important. Maybe it will be when the world rights itself again, or, maybe it will be after humanity has hit re-start, archeologists will find something or people can use their minds to just know things. Maybe they'll laugh at this generation of humans the way that we do about the fall of the dinosaurs. Or maybe, he muses last, no one will ever know at all.

It's all useless, he figures, thinking about this. It is; maybe he should have thought about his mother or his brother or his nephew in his last moments. Maybe he should have thought about how he was almost going to call in sick today and take one more day to celebrate the first couple days of 2018. Maybe he should have been thinking about God or religion or the afterlife.

None of it really matters. He's dead before he can use his keypad to unlock the doors.

After that, he's undead.

This is day six.

On day zero- December 31st, 2017- it begins with a mistake. It begins in a lab where it shouldn't have mattered that there was a mistake since they dealt mostly in chemicals to grow better corn. The world would be laughing if they knew about this if everyone one day turned out okay.

One drop of a 'harmless' chemical, mixed with the wrong something in the air and no one knew until it was much, much too late. The man who sneezed and dropped the vial was checked over, but no doctors found anything wrong, and he went home to celebrate New Years with his wife. Within a month, it will have spread through DC. Within two months, it will have started creeping through the USA. By day 131, they will consider the Wildfire Virus to have infected everyone on earth.

But that's getting ahead of everything, for, at this moment, there are celebrations around the entire world.

In a tiny town called Riverdale, on the North Side, Betty Cooper shoves a mask back into her desk drawer. She tells herself that the Black Hood is gone; she and Archie have seen to that. She tells herself this despite how much-in the back of her mind- she just knows it to be untrue.

Her phone vibrates and it's Veronica, reminding her that her presence is forcefully requested for her New Year's Eve party. The message is followed by a bunch of smiley faces and purple hearts, with a promise that it will be an 'intimate event'. To Betty, that means just her and Veronica. To Veronica, it means at least ten people, but no more than twenty-five.

Archie will be there. They kissed, and that was that. They both were not dating others, so it's not as though someone did something wrong. But, now Archie is back together with Veronica and Betty is still broken up with Jughead.

She didn't think that anything would come of the kiss, but she'd be lying if she hadn't thought about that possibility, late into the night. The almost preposterous idea that she and Archie might start something together.

It's preposterous because she knows how much Veronica loves Archie, and that wouldn't be fair to her best friend. However, it's only been three and a half months since she tried to kiss Archie and reveal feelings to him, so some part of Betty still burns quietly for the friend she knows she cannot have.

And she loves Jughead. Despite their distance, she knows she cares for him.

She hates that each day it's getting a little easier to not be with him.

Betty truly does not want to go to Veronica's New Years Party, knowing full well there will be no one to kiss there and she'll be plastered against the wall of Veronica's apartment, sipping on champagne and acting like she's having a good time. However, Veronica will drag her there, so Betty texts her a reply that she promises to show up before midnight and that she has some 'errands' to do first.

Betty has no errands, but she can't be at her house and she can't be at Veronica's either. So, she gets in her car and drives.

In a tiny town called Riverdale, on the South Side, Sweet Pea raids FP's house for some whiskey. FP and Jughead are who knows where, but they're not here. Faintly, Sweet Pea recalls saying something that they'd be out together, doing 'family bonding' but Sweet Pea doesn't care. Is it wrong to be stealing alcohol from FP's trailer?

If you ask Sweet Pea, he won't call it 'stealing'. He'll call it 'borrowing', since he does have every intention of finding the same bottle elsewhere and giving it back. He's just too tired to give that much effort into finding it elsewhere, not when he knows that FP used to drink anything but water, so he must have something somewhere. Plus, FP loves the kid (but Sweet Pea knows he'll never say it out loud).

A car pulls up into the trailer park gravel. It's close enough to FP's house to catch Sweet Pea's attention, but far enough away that it could be here for another house. Sweet Pea pauses his iPod, pulling out one of his earphones to tilt his head to gauge the sounds. It's not a pair of motorcycles, which tells him the old leader and his son aren't back yet, but he still peeks out the blinds. He turns the sound back on, humming, but keeps his eyes peeled. He wouldn't put it past Penny to be snooping back around, even after they took her tattoo. He hopes it is her, in a sense, because he'd have an opportunity to beat her up.

He hasn't loved many of the ideas that Jughead's had, but he liked that one.

It's a nicer car, which Sweet Pea knows isn't anyone here's. He's sure they're lost and they've just pulled into the area to re-orient themselves on their maps and they'll be gone. The car idles, unmoving, for far longer than just a lost person.

In the dim light, past the reflection on the snow, Sweet Pea can see a pale face with a ponytail, slicked back. It's blonde.

He needs only one guess to figure out who it is; Betty Cooper, Jughead's ex-girl.

She's here for Jughead, he's sure. Or, she thinks she might be here because she hasn't made any effort to get out of her car. In fact, she looks surprised she's here at all, and yet she doesn't move.

He doesn't have an occasion to talk to Betty Cooper, and he doesn't have great opinions of her. Scratch that; he's not sure what his opinions of her are.

He heard the name much before he met the girl. He'd associated her with Alice Cooper, ex-serpent (and everyone knows stories of Alice Cooper, back before she got a stick up her ass), first. Then, it's all he heard Jughead talk about for much too long. She always seemed perfectly nice, if not strange for finding Jughead attractive, and that's not what made him dislike her. It's the fact that Jughead never shut the hell up about her and because Sweet Pea thrives on conflict, he had already decided to dislike anything Jughead likes. He's given up burgers at Pop's once he found out how much Jughead liked them, and that's saying how far he's willing to go just to annoy that emo crown kid. So, by extension, he disliked Betty Cooper.

However, Betty Cooper then went and did a serpent dance at the Wyrm, and Sweet Pea wondered if he was perhaps a little too hasty with his assertion to dislike everything that Jughead liked.

And then, Jughead (the ultimate idiot) broke up with her promptly after. Had she been Sweet Pea's girl, he considered for just a second, he would have taken her out of the Wyrm and probably fucked her senseless against a building to show his gratitude. He'd never thought Jughead was smart, so, maybe he shouldn't have been so surprised.

But he didn't think Jughead hated Betty. He defiantly wished Jughead did, because then Sweet Pea would have been obligated by his own rules to like Betty, and he could feel less strange about the way he'd been feeling about her of late. He wasn't freaking in love with her (Sweet Pea didn't do 'love') but she got his blood going in ways that he hadn't thought proper and Northsider Betty Cooper ever would.

This just left Sweet Pea confused about how he should feel for Betty. Respect? Attraction? Mild indifference? All three? None?

At the moment, he's a little annoyed she's showed up here. Jughead is mopey but adamant they 'have' to break up. Betty just seems a little desperate to be here.

He wonders if he should go out and say something. Tell Betty Jughead isn't here. Maybe strike up a conversation, try his luck? Before he can do this, Betty shifts the gear and backs away, the headlights bouncing off the shivering trees and vanishing down the road.

Sweet Pea turns his music up, full blast, and returns his looting. He finds a bottle- mostly empty- and nicks it. He goes to Fang's trailer, knocking three times on the door and holds the bottle of whiskey by the neck, holding it up in triumph. The pair of them climbs onto the roof of Fang's trailer, brushing snow off to sit down.

They pass the bottle between them while Sweet Pea plays his New Year's playlist, a compilation of the best songs to come out in 2017. Fangs sings off key to _Despacito_ , hiccuping already. Fangs has never known how to hold his liquor. Sweet Pea is hardly affected by the amount he's consumed, leaving him just buzzed enough to let his mind detach from his body; from the numbness of his fingers, from the whispering of the wind, from the creaking of the tin underneath him.

Sweet Pea remembers that they say who you're with on New Years is a good indicator about the influence of the rest of the year. Or maybe, it's about who you're thinking about. At any case, as the clock strikes 12, Sweet Pea is thinking of Betty Cooper, sitting in the driveway with her lips pursed and frowning at the house, clearly in a mental argument with herself. He thinks about how Jughead should have never broken up with her and how Betty Cooper is not the girl he thought she was.

At midnight, Betty is thinking of Sweet Pea as well, but she does not know it. She did not mean to go to Jughead's trailer, but it was such a familiar path that she didn't even she was going there until she had parked.

She had seen a light on in the house, but the motorcycles were gone. She'd seen someone lift between the blinds and peek out, but make no motion to come out to her. She wonders if it was FP or Jughead. She is unsure it was either and wracks her brain trying to figure out who it was if it was not them. Choices like Toni or Tall Boy weave in her mind, but she cannot think of a reason either would be present in the house when FP or Jughead isn't.

If you had given Betty 100 choices, she would have never guessed Sweet Pea. She does not, at this point, even truly know who he is, except that the name rings a bell and she thinks he might be a Serpent, or maybe he's a Ghoulie. And, if someone put him in a lineup, Betty could not have pointed him out. She's heard Jughead bitch about him on an occasion or two, which leads her to think it might be a Ghoulie, but since the break-up, Betty has been trying hard to not think about anything having to do with the Southside. Today was the first time she'd even been back in the area and it had hurt a lot. Enough to maker her slam the gas and squeal out of there before she did something really stupid, like go and sit on Jughead's bed and wait for him to return. And, the more she thought about it, the less she even wanted to do that. She thinks, actually, that maybe Jughead should be apologizing to her! Betty tries to enjoy the party, but her mind wanders back to the blinds, and she thinks it can't have been Jughead, for even he would not have been so cruel to ignore her...she hopes.

At midnight, the vial holding the virus has been dropped and as soon as it shattered, there was nothing anyone could have done. Even if Betty and Sweet Pea had known they were thinking about each other- and played into the idea of superstitions (Betty firmly did not, Sweet Pea did, but only when it benefited him) which would mean that they were influential in each other's upcoming year- neither could guess what was to come.

And, all things considering, it's probably better that way.

* * *

 **So all! I've been sitting on this idea for a while now. To be honest, it's just my stupid shipper heart that chooses to love total rarepairs XD And I mean, Sweet Pea is great! But, I really fell for the idea after Sweet Pea looked interested during Betty's dance. If you get the chance, go check out 'forasecondtherewedwon's work; she was the one that really got me obsessed with this couple and I pretty much feel like she is sailing the ship of SS SweetBetts all by herself!**

 **This is a zombie!AU, and I'm going by the rules of The Walking Dead, and tbh, I actually consider it to be in this universe. I don't think we'll ever actually run into anyone from TWD from this, but I just thought I'd throw that out. Funny enough, I had started a 100 zombie!AU that I also considered to be in that universe (and eventually will get around to posting) so I guess they also are here. I have considered that down the line a character or two might pop up, but it would be very non-obvious. It wouldn't be like Sweet Pea running into Bellamy, not in this story at least (but, who knows, later I might be down for doing crossover sequels/one-shots!)**

 **The original title for this story was going to be '(in your head, in your head) they are fighting' from the song 'Zombie', but I wasn't quite happy with that. Then, pop, a better title came along, and here we are! Each title of the piece will be a theoretical song from Sweet Pea's playlist. I don't have each title cemented in yet, so if you have a good song for the apocalypse, lemme know! Technically, in TWD, they've never heard of zombies (the myth just doesn't exist) so this song can't really exist either, but I love it so much (and the new Bad Wolves cover is so great) so I made it the preface track :)**

 **If you want to see the cover I made for this way bigger, and also see an aesthetics board I did for this story, go to my tumblr- youngbloodlex22! I'll be posting art/news and stuff regarding this, and my other stories, there! I hope you all enjoy!**


	2. Track One: Holding Out For A Hero

**Hi all! So I plan on updating once a week...but I'm not sure what day of the week that'll be yet XD So, hopefully next week, things get a little more settled? It will probably end up being once a week between Fri-Sun.**

 **Thank you to my two reviewers! Seeing even any support for this fic means a lot: Guest and badryla**

 **Guest: Yes! I remember having the same thoughts, which is probably what led me to this crackship! They didn't do a whole lot with it, sadly. Maybe next season?**

* * *

 _February 2019_

It's been eight months since Betty and her travel companion have seen an humans.

No, that's not quite right. It's been eight months since Betty and her travel companion have seen any living humans; as compared to the multitude of corpses scattered on the ground like leaves, as compared to something even worse- the walking undead. It's been eight whole months since she's talked to someone else, sans her companion, and nearly nine months since 'this' (whatever 'this' is) started.

It's been nine months and Betty has just begun to realize the whole world is fucked and it's never going back to the way it was before.

And isn't that something?

That's at least what Sweet Pea would say.

 _May 11th, 2018_

The end of world did not end with a bang. I did not end with a whimper. The end of the world ended as normally as ends of the words can be.

One day it was, one day it wasn't.

Of course, Betty is sure that it's much more complicated than that. She knows if she still had internet to look over things, she'd be able to chart the ways it was all leading up to it and no one knew. She's sure that someone had to guess it somewhere, even if it was those previously-thought-to-be-crazy survivalists, who she thinks are somewhere out there, but in all likelihood doing much better than she is. She bets those people in their tin bunkers are laughing it up right now, alive and well, while the rest of the world burns above them.

But to Betty and to everyone in Riverdale, it simply ceased to be their world anymore in the span of 24 hours.

In the chaos of their town, what with her father being revealed as the Black Hood and Archie's arrest, they were all to preoccupied with their own minimal problems to look at what was happening outside of their city limits. But, even if they had, would any of them have ever been prepared? At least right now, Betty can pretend like if she'd known she'd been better off, instead of the reality that nothing could have ever made this situation okay. No amount of color-coded notes or carefully stocked supplies would have made the end of the world easier for Betty Cooper.

It's in moments like this, when she reflects, that she thinks of Jughead. She thinks that she cannot even accurately begin to describe the change of those hours in any real way, she's only able to look at it from a journalist's logical and detached mindset. She can report hour to hour the happenings, but she would have fumbled if someone asked her to vividly tell them about her fear, her hunger, or the rush of adrenaline as she fought for her life. She thinks that if the world ever does end up righting itself and if Jughead is somewhere still alive out there, the novel he writes about this happening will be a bestseller.

The truth of the matter, whenever Betty thinks hard back to it, is that they were all worrying about Archie and nothing seemed more pressing than the fact that her best friend was being accused of a murder Betty is pretty damn sure he didn't do. One Betty hopes he didn't; they'd all seen him run after the buglar, but when he'd come back, he didn't have the eyes of a killer. Maybe he's a better actor than she cares to admit. Maybe being trained under Hiram all that time, even as a way to get the better of him, darkened his soul in ways that was inevitiable. Maybe he did kill that boy, Betty wonders, and she won't say it outloud but she wonders how they'll go on after that? She remembers sleeping over at Veronica's house, consoling her.

"It's my father, I just know it. I just know it and I feel so helpless," Veronica paced around her room, throwing anything and everything at the wall. Her clothes, balls of socks, jewelry, and finally a bottle of perfume that shattered, leaving a little puddle on the ground and the aromatic scent that Veronica once wore everyday hanging in the air.

Veronica always has a plan; this is something Betty can depend on. She's gotten herself out of bigger things, so to hear Veronica has no ideas scares Betty a bit. She still tries to be helpful.

"Veronica, Vee…" Betty's voice is soft. Veronica is trying to clear away the broken glass, and she cuts herself, "Hey, leave it for now. Mayor McCoy is going to do all she can for him, right? And his mom is coming down tomorrow, so there's that. He can't go through this. There's nothing, okay?" Betty wants so much to believe it. Veronica is a mess, her makeup running and her shoulders shaking. Betty will never tell Veronica her fears because that's not what Veronica needs to hear right now. She needs to hear the certainty in Betty's voice when Betty tells her that Archie is not a killer and her father won't get away with it. Veronica literally melts into Betty's arms, looking smaller and more childlike than Betty has ever seen her. She pats Veronica's head softly, encouraging her into the white and fluffy bed, tucking her in. She curls up next to her friend, clicking the light off and finding Veronica's hands, holding them. She's shaking still.

"Let's go to bed; in the morning, it will all be better." Betty whispers, easing her friend into what she hopes is a sleep filled with happy thoughts, "I swear."

God. If Veronica ever found her again, Betty expects she'll have to pay dearly for that lie. She didn't know, which is a fair point.

No one knew.

 _May 12th, 2018_

Betty wonders if she'd started this new world out with Jughead and FP if it would be different. She had plans to spend the night with Jughead before the pep rally, but cancelled them in favor of her friend and Jughead agreed, as he was preparing to spend a night in the sheriff's office to be around Archie. She's glad they've mended whatever problems they had with each other, since their friendship is something Betty never wants to see either of them loose. And, if Betty could, she may have been camping out with Archie too. But, Veronica needs her.

It's strange to to think, because she muses that if she didn't't have Veronica as a friend, she would be with Archie. However, if Veronica never came, Archie wouldn't be in prison to begin with. Maybe he'd be planning gigs for a garageband for the summer months, in between working at his dad's crew. Maybe Betty would be half-way on her way to another internship. Maybe Jughead would be sending out his manuscript to publishing houses. And, in a very impossible way, Betty wonders if maybe the apocalypse wouldn't have come at all.

She tries not to think about that too much, but in those first few months, it's fairly inevitable.

She didn't know what was creeping on their town. What she did know is that when she woke up the next morning, Veronica wasn't there. There was a note left on the vanity with Veronica's impeccable handwriting announcing she would be at the prison and that Betty should come whenever she wakes. It seems peppier than the night before, but from the way the pen presses hard, Betty knows Veronica is still reeling. Betty snatches the note off the vanity. Later, she'll be glad to have a memento of one of her best friends.

Betty checks her phone to text Jughead, wondering if he's still at the prison with Archie like he has been all night. She should have thought it strange she had no service, no internet. However, with the stress and exhaustion of everything else going on, brushing aside technology acting up is simple to do.

Hermione and Hiram aren't home either. No one is home in the large apartment, not even downstairs at the door, where there's always someone guarding them.

After everything, this does send shivers up her spine.

Betty makes an executive decision; she ransaks the apartment until she finds one of the many guns she knows Hiram has hidden away. She can apologize later, hopefully, when she's still alive. She just has to make it to that point, she tells herself.

She recalls the attempt on Veronica's life with Small Fry. How would someone not know, if they'd never seen Veronica, that she was not Hiram's daughter, if someone else was lurking around, waiting for revenge. The blonde hair may be a giveaway, but if she's learned anything, these thugs aren't ones to check facts first.

The internet router says it's a problem with the service. The Lodge's still have a phone hooked into the wall, probably for nefarious purposes, but when Betty picks it up, there's no dial tone. Betty waffles in the living room of Veronica's apartment for a couple hours, fighting with herself. She's been in more dangerous situations before, even if she does not exactly what the danger is. However, those situations have always escalated quickly, and she usually has someone else- be it Archie, Jughead, or even her mother. She has scouted the whole apartment and not found a single soul, so staying here would be the safest.

Betty likes to think that it was mainly her worry for her loved ones that drew her out, but in all honesty, it was her curiosity. Betty can't help it; throwing herself into situations like this.

Outside looks like the world just stopped existing. Cars are abandoned halfway in the street, windows are broken, and things- couches, money, personal items- are sprawled across the road. Most terrifyingly, there's just silence.

There's a pair of people in the street. Since Betty's phone is acting like she's in the middle of Antarctica and is glitching out, refusing to connect to service or wifi, Betty sighs, approaching them.

Ignoring the drug use, the Ghoulies, her own father, and Hiram Lodge, Riverdale is relatively safe (or, was) and Betty knows pretty much everyone in town, which is why she feels okay taking a couple steps forward. She thinks that one of the people might be the college drop-out who bags her food at the grochery store; his name is Chad or Chet or something. However, he seems unresponsive in the usual way. His body is bent forward in a position that looks highly painful, however he makes no moves to amend his stance. Her confusion about everything causes her to keep a hand on the gun.

"Uh, hey, hi...Do you happen to know what's going…"

She pauses, lips parted, frowning. She's just come around one of the abandoned cars and for the first time, she has a full view of the situation before her.

One of the people is laying on the ground, and they're undeniably dead. Their head looks like it was run over by a truck, and that should have been the worse thing Betty's ever seen. It isn't, but it's a close second. What is hands down the most vile thing Betty's ever seen is that the second person- Brett, yes, that's his name- seems to be eating the first, fingers digging into their innards like it's spaghetti. She's known Brett to be high on occasion, but weed doesn't make someone do that.

Brett- the cannibal, Betty at first thinks, wondering if this is meth gone really wrong- turns around.

"You're not a person," The words slip out before she can fully think it through. Brett is a person. This is not Brett, she realizes with a horrified intake. It's hardly human. A person would not have a bite ripped from their shoulder and look okay. A person wouldn't have their jaw hanging and still be eating flesh. A person wouldn't be whatever this thing is.

Betty think it used to be Brett, which is equally terrifying, but she cannot know what it is now.

Her instincts give her two choices; run or fight. Both alert her to the fact that this thing is no friend and she should be very, very afraid.

She raises the gun, stumbling back a step or two.

The thing stumbles toward her, making a low keening sound in the back of a throat she's not sure it still has, dragging toward her at no quick speed. It's not the speed that makes Betty's blood freeze, it's the whole thing and the feeling that she could be next on this thing's meal list.

She shoots it in the chest, but it does not stop. She shoots it again, and though it slices through the thing like butter, the creature continues to advance. Betty stumbles back, falling hard on the concrete, over a car.

The creature is at her feet and Betty raises the gun once more, aiming for it's head.

She doesn't register the hit, not at first, not until she's bathed in sticky, nearly black blood and the body falls beside her, unmoving.

Betty is shaking hard and it's really all she can do to drag herself into one of the empty back seats of the abandoned cards, slamming the doors around her.

Inside the vehicle, her fingers are numb and she drops the gun to the carpeted floor, wiping away her cheek and seeing it come back covered in something that she would compare to molasses, if molasses had the smell of decay accomping it.

It's all she can do at this point to scream into her hand, holding back the tears.

She wants to find Jughead. She wants her mother. She wants Archie and Veronica. She wants to find Brett alive somewhere else, because that would mean that she didn't just kill him. She wants her sister. She might even take her father now, because having him hold her in this moment would feel more normal than what's going on outside.

Betty is a logical person and literally nothing about this is making a lick of sense.

Betty also has rarely felt fear, not when she's gone through so much. She recognizes that fear would have been appropriate, after the fact, but when chasing the fake Black Hood or answering her phone, she's too aware of every other sense. Today, however, right now...this fear overwhelms her in a way that she's never felt before. It suffocates her, creeping into her darkness and strangling it.

Betty cannot imagine herself stepping a moment further. She hates herself for feeling like such a coward, but she can still see the the supine outline of Brett that she just killed, or thing- she is, once again, not sure it's a person- and that really puts something into perspective for her.

Her arm is hurting like nothing else. She peels back her sweater to see that it's bright red and matted. Somehow, when she fell, she must have sliced her arm open and just not even noticed. She wraps it as well as she can, wishing she had some advil or something, because now that she has only this to focus on, it really stings. She contemplates her options; she can venture out to find some pain meds, she can ventur even furthur to find people she cares about, she might run into more of those. She checks the gun and sees she used the last bullet into the brain of that thing. This pretty much cements her choice.

Betty stays in the car.

 _May 12th, 2018 (Later)_

Betty hadn't meant to fall asleep. It was wildly irresponsible, given the climate. However, the mixture of the adrenaline with the dizziness she was feeling from the loss of blood leave her far more tired than she thought, and sleep overcomes her. Plus, last night, she was worried equally about Veronica and Archie and sleep eluded her most of the night.

She awakes to hand prints being shoved against the windows of the car and those same rasping moans.

Betty instinctively rolls to the ground, out of sight as much as she can be. She tries not to gag, but the smell of death is really overwhelming everything else, so much that she throws up in her mouth just a little.

She wonders how Jughead felt, going in to face Penny that night not too long ago. Knowing he might die. His was a choice, though. A stupid choice, but his choice all the same. He had a chance to call Betty. Betty would very much like to live in this moment, but feels like it might be out of her hands. She only comes up with a ice scraper as a weapon and she will go down fighting if she has to, but she counts six separate pounding bodies, so she knows she's outnumbered.

"I'm sorry," She whispers, unsure who she's apologzing to. Her mother, for never coming home? To Jug, for being scared? To Veronica, for not waking up with her this morning? To everyone?

She prepares herself to fend them off until her dying breath, until she begins to hear bodies thumping. She also hears...whistling? She is almost sure she's going absolutely batty because it almost sounds like it's to the tune of Another One Bites the Dust. She presses a hand to her forehead, first to see if she's got a fever. She wonders if maybe she's actually dead. She hears the sickening sound of bones cracking and figures- dead or alive- she's going to be ready. Her fingers curl around the blue plastic ice scraper, preparing herself to open the door.

Nothing prepares her for the door opening suddenly, at least, not the door opening by someone other than herself. She nearly hits her head on the concrete as she slides out of the car, head facing toward the sky. The sun is setting and reflects off the car, shining right in her eyes. She raises an arm to shield her eyes without thinking about the danger that might be around, and blood dribbles onto her cheek.

"Damn it," She mutters, noticing she's dripping blood from her arm again. She might need stitches.

"Are you human?"

The question is careful, but stupid Betty decides. If she wasn't, she'd be attacking him right now. She probably wouldn't be hiding out in someone's rusted SAAB, that's for sure. She has a biting reply on her lips, but tells herself that this person just saved her life, so she should be gracious. And, at that, she realizes she's still not sure who it is. The sun is still in her eyes, so Betty squirms all the way onto the ground, and then pulls herself to sit.

Betty looks up to see her savior; Sweet Pea. She only knows him by association- that he's part of Jughead's serpents, but he's been an aggravator at many points in Jugheads attempts to take the reins. He's covered in blood like she is, but she thinks his is from the six people he just felled. He has a baseball bat clenched in his fist, heaving like he just ran a marathon, and looks strong as hell.

"Sweet Pea, hi," Her voice is raspy, "Yeah, I'm human. If you mean, not one of them…" She blinds, unable to think harder than that. Her witty responses go right out the door when she sees the carnage behind Sweet Pea and sees a pool of black blood that is inching closer to her, "Thank you."

They've only ever had a few talks, and most of them spats at that, so to thank Sweet Pea is unexpected. However, he's never been outright mean to Betty and she knows Jughead doesn't hate him, so there's a count there. He did just save her life, albeit he didn't know it was her in the car, but still. She knows Serpents would die for each other. It seems wildly out of character that he would stop to save someone that likely wasn't a serpent. Or, Sweet Pea is more of an enigma than Betty knows and he might actually be a half-decent guy.

"Fucking apocalypse," Sweet Pea gives an aggravated sigh, more so to the world than to Betty, and she thinks he might have muttered something else (but all she catches are the words 'unprepared' and 'playlist') but she finds the strength to shakily stand. She grabs the empty gun from the car, but when she turns she stumbles.

"Woah," Sweet Pea grabs her arm; her bad arm, and she hisses. He pulls it back to see it's covered in blood, and he stares at his palm with a darkened look.

"That looks bad."

"I just need some gauze," Betty insists, "Tis but a scratch." She says before she can stop herself. It's a joke she would make with Jughead. However, this probably isn't a time to be making light of the situation, and two, does Sweet Pea even know what she's talking about? From his almost smirk, she gleans he's at least seen Monty Python, "Really. I'm okay." She insist after a second. She turns and what she sees on the ground breaks her heart. It's a student, her age.

She didn't know his name, nor much about him, other than that he came from Southside High but was not a part of the Serpents. And now he's laying on the concrete, his cheeks and eye sockets sunken in and his skull bashed in. She looks up at Sweet Pea, and Sweet Pea bites the inside of his cheek. "I had to."

"I know," Betty's own foot nudges what's left of Brett, trying to show that she understands that he had to kill this thing, even if it was once his schoolmate. She turns back around, but her gaze falls on the kid again. He looks a ghastly gray and one of his arms is torn up, but not elegantly like some animal, but like something with duller teeth decided to take a bite.

"He just wouldn't stop trying to get into the car. Joshua, I think was his name. A freshman." Sweet Pea is following her gaze, "Did you come from the Lodge's?" He asks, pointing to the white fortress just ahead. Betty nods. She's glad he switched topics. Talking about Joshua, who was fourteen or fifteen at most, is not on her list of things she wants to do.

"It's empty, though."

"Shame," Sweet Pea sighs, "I figured the apocalypse would be the best time to off old Hiram, you know. Revenge for everything."

"Yeah, well," Betty isn't sure she wants Hiram dead. As much as Veronica said she wishes that her father would die last night, and Betty agreed, Betty is unsure that's how either of them truly feel. Betty despises her father but she doesn't want him dead, however, Sweet Pea's life has been ruined a whole lot more than hers has by Hiram.

"We're going there."

"Uhm, no." Betty tightens her ponytail, "I need to find Jughead and my mom."

"You've lost a shit ton of blood. You're not going to get three steps." Sweet Pea slings the bat across his shoulders, "But go ahead, go on," He says, raising an eyebrow. He's challenging her and he looks so smug that it infuriates Betty.

Betty defiantly takes a step forward, which doesn't seem bad. The second is fine too. So is the third. It's the fourth that'd disastrous, that leaves her crumpling in a ball, her legs buckling.

Sweet Pea picks her up off the ground, slinging her arm over his.

"It was four steps," She argues quietly and Sweet Pea snorts, but he almost smiles. She will not admit defeat, but he knows that she realizes her weakness in this moment too.

Inside, they go back to the Lodge's main living room. Sweet Pea makes a mess of their bathrooms, searching for medical supplies while Betty gingerly works her sweater off. She still has a shirt underneath, so she's not stripping naked for a boy she hardly knows. She bites her lip hard when she unwraps the fabric she'd patted over her wound, tears pricking her eyes as it lifts up from where it has stuck itself to her cut. It's like pulling off a band-aid, but with none of the healing properties a band-aid has.

"Rich people have great meds," Sweet Pea rattles a bottle of vicodin, "Bottoms up."

"I don't know," Betty gnaws her lip, "Maybe we shouldn't be doing that. We should have our wits and all."

"Well, it's here if you need it." He sets it in front of her, "Now...your arm."

Neither of them know what they're doing, but they manage to slather on a whole lot of antiseptic and bandage it pretty tightly. It's not as bad as it looks after all the blood is cleaned away, and luckily will not need stitches, Betty decides. It's going to leave a nasty scar, but Betty can live with that. She's surprised how methodical, how careful Sweet Pea is as he uses a rag to clear away the excess blood.

"Why did you help me?" She asks as Sweet Pea is tying off the ends of the gauze.

"Too tight?" He checks. Betty shakes her head. He's not medically trained, but the Serpents get bashed up often, so it's not wholly unheard of that he'd know a basic thing or two, "Serpents are all about survival instincts...except Jughead, who seems to run right toward certain death. All that aside, you've got some balls, Betty Cooper. Don't think I ever told you that."

"Erm, thanks?" Betty has hung around boys enough to know this is a compliment. She never thought Sweet Pea thought so highly of her. It seemed that whenever they were in a room together, they ended up fighting over something.

"Plus, seeing you bleed over the Lodge's thousand dollar furniture is almost satisfying my revenge," He says, nodding to a throw pillow that's been irreparably ruined and stained with Betty's blood.

"Right," Betty agrees dryly, "So do you know what's going on out there?"

Sweet Pea takes a set next to her, "Not a damn thing. I woke up and the world was burning. At the riverside where we're camping, I mean that fucking literally. Someone thought that maybe burning these demons would work…" He frowned hard, "Far as I've seen, only way to stop them is to get a headshot in. I tailed it to the baseball diamond and managed to pick this bad boy up. It's done me well so far." Sweet Pea taps the bloodied baseball bat against Betty's leg. His fingers clench and unclench around the handle, as though reliving his morning.

Betty has a thousand questions. Two spring up as the most important. One is emotionally driven, one is logically driven. She fights between two, finally asking the second.

"What are these things?"

"Ask what you really want to know," Sweet Pea doesn't command it, but offers it. Betty is almost warmed by the gentleness in his tone, and this along with her question that she does truly want to ask nearly makes her cry.

"Is Jughead okay?" Her voice shakes much more than she wants. After being told she has lady balls, she would hate to seem weepy, but Sweet Pea doesn't seem to hold it against her.

"I'm sorry, I don't know," Sweet Pea whispers, "He-, along with Fangs and Toni and Cheryl- were gone when I woke up. I figured he came to you, that Toni and Cheryl were together and Fangs?" Sweet Pea looks so angry, "I don't know where he is."

"I'm sure he's okay."

"He's a cripple in a world of psychotic undead things eating people's flesh, Cooper. Don't coddle me." Sweet Pea snaps, "And if all this was for nothing, if our death was having to move to that freaking river bed, if we all could have been safe in the trailers," Betty notices his lack of a swear word and figures he's really upset, "Well, I figured Hiram could pay for it in his blood, then."

"Oh."

"And I dunno, to your other question. I don't know what these are, but it's nothing good."

"Yeah," Betty nods. She gets up, "Hungry?" On one hand, after seeing all this, it should be impossible to eat. However, she also realizes it's been nearly all day since eating, and that's not healthy.

"I guess if someone put food in front of me…" Sweet Pea looks at his hands, more red than flesh toned, and is thinking the same lines that Betty is. He makes a face, wiping it across the back of the Lodge's sofa, settling his muddy boots over their coffee table. He does not look calmed, but Betty wouldn't call her current self 'calm' either. She recognizes that one of them needs to take some sort of motherly initiative. She doubts it's going to be Sweet Pea.

"Okay. I'll see what we have."

It's getting dark now and Betty is smart enough to know that Jughead is smart too. He is, arguably, smarter when it comes to street logic. His father is smart too in that same way. Wherever he is, he's found somewhere safe, and going out now would just endanger her and she wouldn't get a block out, not when the walk between the kitchen and the living room (albeit that it may be a larger distance than most kitchens and living rooms are) makes her still feel nauseous.

She will search in the morning.

 _May 13th, 2018_

"Most people left town." Sweet Pea informs her at first daylight, "I saw people just pouring out of the city limits."

The morning came earlier than Betty thought. She had been up all night, running through the names of people and wondering how they were faring. Cheryl and Toni were okay; Cheryl was terrifying in the best of ways, plus, she had to have loads of hidden places all over Riverdale. Jughead and his father would be fine. Archie would be okay because Veronica would be okay. Kevin and his father had a whole slew of guns at the police station. She was worried about her mom, her sister, and Fred Andrews specifically. Sweet Pea woke looking miraculously well-rested and wasted no time going through the Lodge's fridge. He informed her of the town's status as he was ransaking their fruit drawer. The day before, Betty had only gone as far as finding leftovers that looked like some fancy mac 'n cheese and reheated it, too tired and too ill to cook anything else.

"Well," Betty locked her jaw, "Whatever. I'm going to stay here. I won't leave until I find my friends. Until I find Jughead." She crossed her arms, staring Sweet Pea down, raising an eyebrow, "I get if if you-,"

"Hey, now. I was just letting you know what I saw." Sweet Pea slammed the doors shut to the fridge, "You think I would just up and leave? Without finding the Serpents?"

Betty hadn't thought of this, not in that moment.

"Then," She bit the inside of her cheek, "I guess we'll go out when you're done eating, huh?" She muttered, feeling her cheeks redden. She hadn't expected that response from him. She knew Serpents were a little self-serving- self-preservation- so she was honestly expecting Sweet Pea to be booking it out of town like the rest. Sweet Pea was shoving a banana in his cheeks, shoving two apples into his jacket pockets.

"I'm good now. Here." he slid the knife block her way, "Pick your poison, Betty Cooper."

"And you?" Betty raised an eye. His trusty bat was strapped across his back, but knives did seem more effective and it didn't make sense for him to ignore a whole collection of them, even if the weathered wood had served him well yesterday.

"Found this laying around," Sweet Pea twirled a gun around far too casually, "I'm sure we could find more. However, you seem so anxious to get back to your bae that I figured you'd want to get on the road."

Betty rolled her eyes, refusing an answer other than walking toward the door.

"If you had a girlfriend I'm sure you'd want to get back to her too," Betty said pointedly and Sweet Pea just shrugged.

"You might want to change." Sweet Pea said, looking Betty up and down, "I mean, it's not the blood, it's the fact it's a skirt. I'll be waiting downstairs." Betty paused. She'd almost forgotten that she had been wearing a mini skirt the day of Archie's arrest. She hadn't changed since then.

"You're not going to leave me?" Betty asked suspiciously.

"Cooper," Sweet Pea sighed in frustration, "Do you really think so low of me? Plus, Jughead would skin me alive if he found out I left you here. Go. Change." It was an order. Usually, she'd fight back, since no one could order her around, but since the reasoning was sound, she agreed.

Betty sprinted to Veronica's room and found a pair of jeans- jeans that probably cost more than five hundred bucks, but jeans- with a jacket and a t-shirt. She found Sweet Pea pacing in the living room, not in the lobby like she'd thought. She knew there was a problem from the look on his face.

Silently, he lead her to a window that overlooked the front street. Pressing themselves against the front door were at least thirty of those half-human things, all ravenous to get inside. A flash of fear struck Betty.

"We just clear them, yeah?" She whispered, "We have a gun."

Sweet Pea shook his head, aiming at one out the window. He was a good shoot, and did manage to fell a single one. Betty saw the problem immediately. The remaining creatures stumbled over to that one and from up the street, Betty saw some that had just been milling around turn and start toward the Lodge's.

"They're attracted to noise. It's why I was on foot instead of my motorcycle." Sweet Pea grumbled.

"So we just have to wait until they leave?" Betty whispered, shaking her head frantically, "Sweet Pea, I have to leave, now."

"You'll be dead if you do." Sweet Pea left the window, "But be my guest."

Betty stood at the window for ten minutes more, watching them swarm like bees before she angrily shut it down and stomped back into the living room.

"The walkers will move on eventually," Sweet Pea dragged a hand over his face, "Logically."

"Walkers?"

"I don't like calling them 'it' forever. They walk."

That was acceptable enough for Betty.

"We'll just wait it out." Betty agreed, and checked her phone again. Still no signal.

This couldn't last more than a couple hours, she figured.

She should have figured out by this point that she was going to be wrong.

It took around 2 days for the group to pass on. She wasn't sure why they were so preoccupied with the Lodges of all places, but it was infuriating.

Betty found things to do with her time.

First things first; she made a list about what she did know about her situation. It could really be boiled down into two points.

It was the apocalypse and there were things out there that used to be humans that were now dead-looking and liked eating other humans.

She made very elaborate notes about her senses during this time, but that's what it truly came down to. And she could work with this. She could prepare for this by the way that she figured she'd become prepared for literally anything. She wasn't going to be caught off guard again.

Between her and Sweet Pea, they scoured the entire Lodge property and came up with quite the arsenal of weapons, mostly guns. It wasn't great, since guns brought more walkers, but she wasn't upset with it either. In a pinch or if they weren't in highly busy areas, guns could be useful. She did wish, however, that Hiram had been obsessed with collecting swords or antique torture devices or something. That would have been more useful.

She was sure by the amount of guns she'd found that Hiram was indeed gang based. She hated to admit it, but in the face of disaster like this, Hiram was going to be able to deal with it. She kept waiting for the Lodgers to return, but they never did. By the middle of that first day, Betty decided that the Lodges were probably far gone, perhaps even out of the country. That thought infuriated Betty, except when she realized that Hermione would never leave without her daughter and Veronica would not leave without Archie, which meant that if she believed that the Lodges had fled, two of her friends were okay.

Betty also began taking out food, medical supplies, backpacks...anything else that could help them. If Riverdale was as overrun as the Lodge's street, Betty had a sick feeling that they couldn't stay here either, once they found people, of course.

Sweet Pea, on the other hand, was interesting to watch.

Betty had never known Sweet Pea all too well, but this gave her a chance to observe the person Jughead would consider his second in command, if he had to pick someone. Sweet Pea had a natural persona that Betty could understand as almost being sly or charismatic, but it just bothered her most of the time. He made a big show of seeming okay, seeming almost gleeful to be parading around Hiram's house. He sang under his breath a lot, a variety of songs, many that Betty didn't even know. At one point he'd started up the good 'ole 'this is a song that gets on everybody's nerves', that is until Betty threatened to kill him in his sleep after the twelfth or so round of it. After that, Sweet Pea began singing 'It's Not Unusual', which wasn't much better, but Betty accepted it. She was sure he did that just to piss her off, though, and the songs he hummed, sang, or whistled to himself were much better choices.

If she wasn't watching him, she would have thought he might have not been as affected as she was. He seemed all too happy to go through every square inch of the Lodge's house, tearing through Hiram's clothes in an elaborate fashion show, reading top secret documents he certainly should have have been perusing, and spent a good amount of the time unlocking the three safes in the Lodge's house. He managed to get all three open by the time they left. He used everything in the house with zero guilt. Betty used things too, but with some yucky feelings. She knew Vee would likely want her to use things, if she were here, she told herself. She needed to eat. She needed to shower. She needed to sleep.

If Betty only saw these activities, she may be miffed about his nonchalance about the whole situation. It was only when he thought Betty wasn't looking that Sweet Pea let himself be nervous; times when Betty had said she would be showering, after dark, or when Sweet Pea was by himself.

He'd be doing something, and then it would be like anxiety would overwhelm him. He'd pace back and forth for minutes on end, sometimes even a whole hour, biting at his nails and looking outside the window. Betty caught him doing this two or three times, enough to tell her that this was seriously rattling him too. A part of her was equally relieved and disappointed; relieved because it made her feel like less of a wimp, but disappointed because she had sort of hoped he had a plan or truly was as brave as he seemed.

They didn't talk much. They did sit down to watch a couple movies on low volume, but it was less a partnership as so much as one turning something on and the other meandering over to the wide couches to join them.

Everyone in the apocalypse, and I get stuck with him.

That wasn't fair, Betty realized if she thought about it. Conversation was a small price in comparison to everything else. She could be with someone who didn't respect her, who didn't know her at all, or who was cruel. She could be with someone useless. She could be with someone much younger or older.

Truth being told, she was fairly well matched with Sweet Pea, at least in this moment. Of course, they'd hopefully find their own groups and maybe they'd just split apart after that. She'd be fine if that happened. She was just grateful she wasn't alone right now.

Some part of her was sure he was happy to have another live human with him too.

 _May 15th, 2018 (Approx 11 pm)_

"The herd has moved on." Sweet Pea said in the dead of night, waking Betty with a start.

"Where?"

Sweet Pea shrugged, shoving his hands into his jean pockets. Betty supposed as long as it wasn't around the Lodge's house anymore, she truly didn't care.

"Are you ready to go?" She asked, jumping out of Veronica's bed and throwing her hair in a ponytail. She'd taken to sleeping in some form of read-to-go clothes so that she could leave like this, at a moment's notice.

"You have no idea."

"What? Has burglarizing the Lodge's house lost its appeal when there's no one to fight about it?" Betty asked dryly. She knew half of Sweet Pea's attitude was with the hope Hiram would reappear and he could get his 'revenge' in. He must have come to the same conclusion that she had.

"No, I'm ready to find my friends. Plus, you would not believe the info that Hiram has just lying around in safes. I mean, I got into them, so how secure can they really be? I was going to tell you about the folder he has on Area 51, but with that tone, I don't think I am anymore." Sweet Pea said.

"Har-har," Betty rolled her eyes. She realized after a second she couldn't be sure that Sweet Pea was joking; that is, that Hiram did have some info about UFOs or aliens locked away.

Betty threw him a backpack filled with non-perishables, a couple guns, and lots of knives- along with other necessities. They'd agreed that right now, a car would be loud and draw attention to themselves, especially when they'd be searching for people, so they'd be stopping and starting a lot. They'd loaded most of the supplies into one of the Lodge's cars to return to once groups were found and leaving would be more of an option. Betty had shoved as much as she could into the back of one of the vans the Lodge's used.

She didn't think about the getaway car right now. In this moment, all she could think was that she might get to see Jughead soon. That was one of the few things that kept her sane these past two days. That and having someone to moan about the apocalypse with, even if Sweet Pea wasn't her first, second, or even tenth pick of a person.

The herd was absent at the front doors, but Betty's feet still froze on the tile.

"You okay, Cooper?" Sweet Pea's voice was low, quiet, and surprisingly concerned.

"I...yeah," Betty tried to play it off, laughing, but her voice came out cracked. They'd seen through the window that the street was empty, but that didn't make it better. She was safe here. Out there was decidedly unsafe. She'd been outside and she'd gotten a gash on her arm and nearly died. One might say going out was just asking to tempt fate. Then again, staying in the ghost of the Lodge's apartment wasn't an option either.

"I have your back." Sweet Pea assured, nudging her shoulder, "C'mon, let's find our friends."

Betty nodded and the pair slipped into the moonlight.

There were some key spots they agreed that people might be hiding out. Neither took out a flashlight, and neither spoke; both concerned about keeping their wits and being on the lookout for walkers. Only the moon lit their way.

Together they started walking through a Riverdale that Betty felt like she knew, but altogether, was now hauntingly different.

 _May 16th, 2018 (Early Morning)_

Most places were a bust. From places on the North Side- the school, the station, town hall, hospital- to the Southside- the trailer park, the Wyrm, Southside high...no life anywhere. Sweet Pea had kept a more hopeful demeanor as compared to Betty, but after seeing the dead bodies stacked up in the Wyrm, that just broke Sweet Pea. Betty hadn't known all the members of the Serpents, since there were many, but most of the bodies that lay there had those signature leather jackets on.

Sweet Pea just went a little catatonic after that. Betty had been lucky enough to see only a few recognizable people she knew, the rest of the town that she could name either too disfigured, hopefully safe, or off roaming as a walker now. Sweet Pea, in this moment? Well, it was undeniable that at least twelve of his family were gone forever, if not more.

"At least the Ghoulies will be killed too, look at this," Betty offered after a long time, nuding the foot of their former leader, Malachi.

"Good riddance," Sweet Pea whispered, the first words he'd spoken since he'd walked into this graveyard.

As fars as Betty could tell, none of them were Juggie, FP, Toni, Cheryl, or Fangs...the rest, she didn't really care about, and it wasn't to be rude. She just didn't know any of them that well. She had a horrible thought that if she hadn't met up with Sweet Pea, and Fangs or another Serpent were to have rescued her, to walk into this, she may not have cared if Sweet Pea was a body on the ground.

The thought made her feel sick. They'd been together for around three days or so now, which wasn't a long time. But, it had been a very long three days and Betty knew Sweet Pea on a different level than before.

Sweet Pea was behind the bar, pouring straight up vodka.

"Woah, hold on." Betty jumped over bodies.

"It's customary to take a shot for every fallen member," He said, raising the glass, "Calm down, I'm not stupid enough to take twelve shots now. I do have a brain somewhere," His voice was toneless, "But you gotta let me have this."

Betty gave a ternse nod of understanding. She hopped up onto the bar, reaching over him to grab a second shot glass. He blinked in surprise as she tilted it toward him, asking him to pour her a shot too. Usually, she wouldn't have done that. But these people deserved a send-off, even if it was two high-schoolers taking a double shot each. It might be the only recognition these serpents would ever get.

"Thank you," Sweet Pea's voice was grainy, "To those that have fallen. Rest quietly, my friends." He clinked the glass to Bettys.

"Rest quietly," She whispered as a soft echo, rubbing her stomach as she downed it. After that, she watched Sweet Pea go around and find any IDs or wallets he could of his deceased family. His mood did not improve as, on the bar table before him, spread out was pictures of happy families, driver's licenses, and cell phones.

"It's only the first day." She whispered, "We've only been searching a day. We can just keep looking tomorrow. People have to be around. Our people."

"No serpent left for dead," Sweet Pea agreed, as though a reminder to himself. Though, as he looked out across the bar, Betty could help but see the doubt crawling into his stomach. If she were in his shoes, she'd be thinking the same thing too. She didn't say a word as he took a picture of each, stuffing it into his pockets. When he left the Wyrm, Sweet Pea did not look back.

They took up residence in a minivan for the night, taking turns to keep watch, readying themselves for another day of searching.

And another, and another, and another.

* * *

 **So, the day of the start of this is Day 131 of the Wildfire virus, or if you watch the walking dead, is the day that Rick wakes up from his coma.**

 **I forgot to mention in the preface, but I do something special where if you review ten times, you get a drabble written for you! If you follow me on my writing tumblr, youngbloodlex22, you can see some of the ones I've done for other reviewers. If you're a guest who does not have an account, you can still get one, just find some way to show yourself other than just a guest when you review! It's a little incentive to leave a note, but also a thank you for those that do :)**

 **Also worth mentioning, I am actually a huge Bughead fan! So, I'm going to try to handle her end of her relationship with Jughead as carefully as I can, so there will be no Jughead bashing or quick switches to Sweet Pea. This is a slow, slow burn baby!**

 **The track for this 'Holding Out for a Hero', and specifically I like the cover by Frou Frou! I did consider putting 'Another One Bites the Dust', since Sweet Pea was singing that, but I thought that the lyrics of HOFAO more fit Sweet Pea's heroic entrance, plus Another Bites the Dust is a good zombie playlist song, but theoretically these tracks are from a playlist Sweet Pea made and he couldn't have known it would be zombies that would be the end of the world.**

 **Please review! It really means the world to me!**


	3. Track Two: Soldier

**Song for this chapter is 'Soldier' by Fleurie! It really gets at the desperation, the hopelessness of the searching that Sweet Pea/Betty do in this chapter. As always, if you have a song to suggest, feel free :) And, please oh please review! It would mean a lot to me to hear your thoughts.**

* * *

 _May 28th, 2018_

Two weeks of useless searching in Riverdale and not a living soul left to find.

They did find one person, and Betty recognized him as someone who had worked at the hospital. He'd been kind when Fred was shot. His name was Kelly, she thinks. He was shaking and had a high fever by the time they came across him, hidden out in an elevator at the now near-empty hospital parking garage.

What had transpired after would follow Betty forever.

He had explained to them through chattering teeth that he'd been with other doctors and the walkers had just overwhelmed the staff. He'd been trying to get the elderly and sick into cars to take to New York City, but had been bit in the process. There was a nasty indent on his arm, necrosed and puss-filled, but undeniably a human's jaw. He hadn't' made it onto the van, because he'd started feeling sick. He didn't want to infect others so had convinced his friends to leave him behind and he'd been holed up here since. They'd only evacuated the hospital a couple days ago, he described, using guards and the numerous hallways to hide from the walkers until they could no longer do so.

They were far from the hospital, in terms of being able to drag him there (Sweet Pea searched for a gurney for about an hour) and Betty nor Sweet Pea had any medical training, so all they could do was watch him die, and try to make sure he didn't feel alone.

They were conferring if they should leave the body or attempt to bury it as to respect him when he came back to life.

The hand of the doctor-turned-walker grabbed Betty's arm, but Sweet Pea was faster, firing a shot through the skull. It all happened so fast that Betty didn't even realize what had happened until much later, when the world wasn't swimming and her ears weren't ringing.

The doctor's head hit the ground with a sickening sound, like a egg breaking on a countertop. Blackish blood, thick, seeped from under his head dripping through the gaps where the elevator aligned with the parking structure. Betty couldn't stop watching it.

"We have to leave. Others will have heard."

Betty was stunned, but nodded.

They managed to hightail it to somewhere safe, somewhere with a heavy locked door- the police station. Most of the guns had been looted but Sheriff Keller nor his son were anywhere to be found. Her father's cell was also empty; she wasn't sure how to feel about that.

"So, here's what we know from that," She said once she'd been sure to thoroughly wash her arms, "A bite gives you a fever and eventually kills you. You come back to life as a walker. Only way to kill the walker is a shot in the head." If she had to remember those events for the rest of her life, she better have learned something from it, she told herself.

"Sounds easy enough to remember," Sweet Pea leaned against the wall, his voice heavy with sarcasm. It was easy to remember. To avoid it? Easier said than done.

They could hear the sound of shuffling and moaning on the outside, so they both hushed up for an hour or so, but both kept a knife close to their fluttering hearts.

"I think if we find someone, it's going to be one or the other," Sweet Pea was the first to start talking again, balancing the knife on his fingers, dangerously.

"What do you mean?" Across the way, the sun slanted on Sweet Pea's face. He frowned.

"My people, or yours."

Betty looked at her hands. It was a possibility.

"If we find Archie and Veronica or Kevin, I wouldn't...ask you to go." At that point, they'd been together for two weeks. It wasn't a lot of time, but when the world had ended, two weeks past certain death felt like a very elongated period. She wasn't saying he was he best friend, but she knew he was a good person and she wasn't going to make him leave, not after all of this.

"I could stand Archie. Veronica, maybe. Kevin's okay." Sweet Pea declared.

Betty almost said 'good' but the words died on her lips a little. She wanted to also say that beggars shouldn't be picky about the survival of the human race. She also felt a thrill run up her spine that he wanted to stay with her, but tried to quell that.

"If we find the serpents, and Jughead's leading them, of course you'll stay. And if not…"

"You'll vouch for me?" Betty quirked an eyebrow.

"Actually, I was going to say you're basically a Serpent anyhow, so it wouldn't matter. It's just not official with a bow yet."

"What?" Betty actually stood, crossing the space between them, kneeling in front of him to make sure she heard correctly, "I don't-,"

"Jughead didn't ask you?" Sweet Pea almost looked embarrassed, "Shitty time to tell you that your boyfriend who we haven't found wanted you to take the mantle of his Serpent Queen and all…"

Betty thought back to two nights before the world ended. It seemed so far away. Plus, Betty hadn't been sure that Jughead had been serious about that. She thought he'd been asking in a soft way, not asking her to join up with the serpents...especially with how he'd been pushing her away from them all year.

"Oh," She'd almost forgotten it in the chaos of it all, "No, he asked. I guess I just didn't think you knew."

"Of course I knew," Sweet Pea nearly looked offended, "He can't just ask anyone he wants to join. There's channels to it, people have to agree. I have to agree."

"And you did?"

"Why wouldn't I? You have more claim than Cheryl. I mean, don't get me wrong, she's terrifying, but she also was shitty to us in the past. She just hardly eked in, but no one will ever tell her that. You? Frankly, it wasn't much of a discussion." At Betty's shocked face, he continued, "Firstly, you already did the snake dance, and that's pretty much there already. And that show was, well," He smirked at her in a way that might have nearly been flirty, "It's just the first time Betty Cooper cam on my radar. And after that, you've been our ally. Plus, your momma was a serpent and family blood means a shit ton. So yes, I had no problems agreeing, swaying the crowd."

"Ah. Thanks." Betty murmured.

"But, knowing my shitty luck, we'll find your people," Sweet Pea groaned.

The next day, Sweet Pea went and came back with a serpent jacket that fit Betty. Betty didn't know where it came from or who he lifted it from, but she accepted it anyway. She doubted they had an untouched closet somewhere of Serpent Jackets, waiting to be doled out. He left and was back before she woke, for she would never let him go alone if she knew.

When she saw it, her eyes brightened and she realized she was much more excited than was likely appropriate. Between all the drama of the year, she'd never gotten a chance to even try on Jughead's.

"Human teeth can't bite as easily through leather." She said when Sweet Pea looked so smug handing it to her. She held her breath a little as she slid it over her arms, letting the weight of it drop against her shoulder blades. The leather was worn and Betty found a crumpled receipt in the pocket from the 7-11. Whoever this had belonged to had bought a Slurpee and a bag of Recess three days before the end of the world. Unwilling to let go of the owner of this jacket, Betty re-folded it carefully and put it back where she'd found it.

"So?" She asked, spinning around a little, more in jest than anything else. She turned to see Sweet Pea watching her intently. He didn't drop his gaze for a second, not even when she met his eyes.

"If only Jughead Jones was here." He whistled low, "Leather's a good look on you."

"Eat your heart out," Betty replied dryly, rolling her eyes, "Let's get going, huh? Find your people."

As it would turn out, they would find neither group, at least, not here in Riverdale and not anytime soon.

 _June 9th, 2018_

They did find a group from Riverdale, but not in Riverdale.

It was three weeks and three days of searching and finding zilch that broke Betty's resolve. Twenty-four days of nothing was a lot to handle, a lot to swallow back. It was hard to admit that her worst fears might actually be confirmed.

Everyone she loved might be dead.

The moment that broke her totally was when she went back to her house. They'd passed it the first day, but Betty had quickly deduced that there was no one there, but couldn't bring herself to walk inside.

She convinced Sweet Pea to look back there once more, mostly because she felt like she needed a glimmer of hope, of something there. Something to make her stay here, to keep looking. Sweet Pea was doubtful, but didn't try to persuade her against it. Maybe he needed a win too.

Inside was practically ransacked. It looked like her mom had left in a hurry. She was relieved to see the knives missing, meaning her mom had probably taken them with her. Her mother's old serpent jacket was also missing.

There were walker guts all over too, which did not bode well.

Betty idly wondered if she would have gone to FP?

There was a singular thing left for Betty, a note on the ground, ripped in half.

Betty, love, come find me. I'm going to-

The rest was ripped away, shredded, missing. It wasn't anywhere to be found.

Betty stared at that note for a long time, shaking her head. Her fingers gripped it so hard it tore tiny holes where her fingers were. She stood, unmoving and unable to breathe.

This was so much worse.

She would never guess where her mother was going. She might never find her. It seemed like this was the snapping point, the point in which Betty could take no more disappointment from this toxic and walker-run town.

"Hey, that sucks," Sweet Pea said once she wordlessly handed him the note. It was as close to sympathy as he knew how to sound. While his words offered little comfort, his tone was someone who understood and might have hugged her, if he were a different person.

She walked upstairs and began to methodically go through her room, still mostly untouched, for things she'd want to take with her.

Sweet Pea followed.

"It's, uh, pink," He said, blinking at her space. If Betty were feeling her normal self, she may feel strange about someone other she didn't know too well viewing something so personal. She just felt numb now. This room wasn't her anymore. It was the room of a normal sixteen-year-old girl in a non-apocalyptic world.

Sweet Pea had brought his personal things with him when he'd gone to off Hiram, and told Betty there wasn't a house to go back to anyway.

Betty took a handful of things; pictures of her family and friends, small things Jughead had given her, a friendship bracelet from Veronica, her iPod, and other trinkets that could fit into a backpack. She stopped in the room that had been Polly's. Though they'd cleared it out for Chic, her things were still packed in boxes in the closet. Betty took things that reminded her of her sister from when they were children, like Polly's stuffed lamb or a shirt that Polly wore so much it had gotten holes in it.

She went to her mother's room, but found it trashed, and was unable to salvage much.

Sweet Pea was in her living room, sitting on the muddy couch and staring out the window.

"We need to leave." She said tiredly.

"Yeah, this house is giving me shivers, no offence," Sweet Pea agreed, and she could tell that he was curious to explore her room but was keeping his hands to himself.

"No, this town, I mean."

She expected Sweet Pea to be indignat, to insist he'd never leave without his fellow serpents, but instead he just rubbed the back of his neck and looked down.

"I uh, yeah. I'd been trying to find a way to ask if maybe we should. Glad you did it first." He sounded a little relieved.

"Our friends aren't here," Betty shook her head, standing, "I don't know where, but we'll go crazy if we stay here."

"Or die. There are walkers fucking everywhere." Sweet Pea agreed. They'd had a couple close calls.

They walked back to the Lodge's in silence. Betty was trying not to cry in front of him, swallowing back bile and bitter agony about having to leave with no leads, with no proof anyone still around, and with the resolution that her childhood home is not the same place it was. It stopped being that way the day Jason Blossom was killed, and she'd been trying to pretend otherwise for a year.

She wonders if she should just mourn now; mourn every person and believe them to be dead. It might spare her feelings later down the road.

They are silent as they get into the van they decided to make their getaway in. It's only once they've reached open roads that Sweet Pea speaks.

"Where to?"

Betty can tell he's trying to regain that teasing tone he usually had, but it's absolutely impossible in this moment.

"The Lodge's have a cabin. It's not too far away. Maybe they…" She frowned, biting her lip, "Jughead knows where it is. He might have gone there."

"Okay, sure." Sweet Pea twiddles his thumbs. She wonders if he would have agreed to anywhere that wasn't Riverdale.

Betty feels better every mile she puts between herself and RIverdale. She had thought she would feel guilty for giving up, but instead, she feels relieved. She feels a little bit free.

Around the hour mark, Betty breaks the prolonged quiet time they've both been having.

"What's your name?"

"Uhh," The dark-haired serpent looks at her, utterly confused, "Sweet Pea?" He reminds.

"No, no. Your real name." Betty waves a hand.

"What if this is it?" He chuckles.

"I seriously doubt that's what your god given name is." Betty mutters.

"What about Jughead?"

"I know that's not his real name," She sees Sweet Pea's mild look of surprise, "What, surprised that I know?"

"I kinda thought-," Sweet Pea turns red, "I dunno, never thought to ask!" He defends himself at Betty's expression once she realizes he's not shocked she knows his real name, he's shocked he has a nickname at all, "His dad was on and off drugs and drinking when he was born, so maybe, I just assumed,"

"It's Forsythe Pendleton Jones the Third." Betty informs him.

"Hardy-har-har," Sweet Pea clinks his fingers against the glass.

"Oh, I'm dead serious. It's Scottish. Why do you think his father is called 'FP'?"

A spark of connection skirts over Sweet Pea's face. He rubs his forehead, groaning.

"That name is terrible. Yeah, I'd go by a stupid name like Jughead too. It nearly sounds normal in comparison."

"Oh, stupid, unlike Sweet Pea?" Betty replied dryly, "Speaking of, never answered."

Sweet Pea shrugs, setting his feet on the dashboard, "They said it the first day we were transferred to Riverdale High overhead. Can't help it if you weren't listening." He really seems like he's not going to tell her.

"I wasn't listening," Betty muttered. She'd had other things to be paying attention to, such a trying not to obsess over Jughead, since it was very shortly after their breakup. And, even if she were, they announced at least thirty names. How was she supposed to have known which was his, on the off-chance she had been paying attention?

"Well, I can't help you then," Sweet Pea leaned his head back on the seat, closing his eyes. He looked very comfortable.

"But-," Betty began to protest.

"Look, Cooper. My real name is a super-duper personal thing. Once you've earned knowing it, I'll tell you. Gottit?" He said without opening his eyes.

"Is it embarrassing?" Betty guessed, "Worse than Forsythe?"

"No, it's normal."

"Then...I mean, we've been traveling together for three weeks! Don't you trust me?"

"Trust isn't it, Betty," Sweet Pea opened an eye, watching her without moving, "It's only given to those that deserve to know. Trust is only a teeny-tiny part. Don't have you secrets?"

Betty was about to press the issue, since she absolutely felt like she should know, but then thought of her 'Dark Betty'. The darkness her father said she had. She quieted. Who was she to judge his secrets, as frivolous as it may seem to her.

Sweet Pea watched her face change and only rolled back on his side to sleep. He stayed asleep until they arrived.

"Welcome to Lodge Lodge," Betty kicked him with her shoe. He blinked awake.

"Did you just say 'Lodge Lodge'? God I hate the Lodges sometimes," He muttered, "It's a pun. It's funny. Dammit." He seemed to think that the fact that the Lodges could be humorous was the worst insult they'd laid upon him yet so far.

They hardly got a step and a half outside the truck when an arrow whizzed past Betty's cheek. Sweet Pea moved instictly in front of her, until Betty got a good look at the arrow.

"Next one doesn't-,"

"Cheryl! It's me, Betty. Sweet Pea too!" Betty spoke as loud as she could without fear of walkers. They hadn't seen many on their way up, but that didn't mean that they weren't out there.

"Cousin Betty?" A dark figure moved in front of them, into the moonlight, "Oh my maple trees."

Betty didn't expect a full on hug from Cheryl, but then again, the end of the world was changing a lot of people. She nodded respectfully to Sweet Pea, a sign of respect, and in that moment Betty had a feeling that Jughead wasn't here. Not when it seemed she was acquiescing to the second-in-command of the Serpents.

"Come in, weary travelers! We mustn't stay outside long." She stalked over to the tree and yanked the arrow out.

Betty and Sweet Pea shrugged, following them in.

"She's a strange one, huh?" Sweet Pea asked under his breath, nuding Betty.

"Well, she's your strange one now," She pointed out. Cheryl had been wearing her red Serpents jacket.

"Our." Sweet Pea corrected, plucking at Betty's own jacket. Betty gnawed her lip uneasily. The jacket on her felt more of a piece of clothing than an actual introduction to the group. Besides, as far as they could see, there wasn't much of a Southside Serpents gang anymore. Could one be a gang of a mere two- no, three- people?

There were three others inside.

Toni nearly bowled Sweet Pea over when she saw him, sucking in a gasping breath, "I thought you were dead!" She practically jumped him, her arms tightening around his neck and her legs around his waist. He staggered back a couple feet before finding his footing. Sweet Pea hugged her back, a motion that Betty hadn't expected from him. However, she knew that the pair were close.

The other two people were not who she was expecting to see- Ethel Muggs and Chuck Clayton. Her fists clenched when she saw the former, still recalling the horrible person he'd been last semester. She did recall that at the musical he'd seemed better, but that didn't make up for years he'd been awful. And, she wasn't sure that Chuck wanted to forgive her either. She worried, for an instant, he'd mention something about 'Dark Betty' to Sweet Pea.

She did recall that Veronica had lifted his pariahship, but...

"Look, I know," Chuck must have been able to read her face.

"It's the end of the world, Betty. We can't be choosy about survivors." Ethel broke in, but her tone held something else. She was looking at Sweet Pea with plain distrust.

"I trust him more than you," Betty replied frostily, addressing Chuck, "However, Ethel is right." She tried to let go her feelings toward Chuck. As far as she was concerned, any marks against someone should be wiped away in the face of the apocalypse.

"No Jughead?" Sweet Pea asked quietly to Toni. Cheryl had joined her girlfriend's side, taking her hand. Toni gave a slow shake of her head, "Fangs?" He rattled off a couple other names of Serpents that Betty knew in passing, all with the same response. There was a certain point in which it seemed Toni was waiting for him to say more names, but Sweet Pea just stayed silent. There was a moment of realization on Toni's part, the realization that the names he had not said were ones he knew were dead...it was probably the group from the Wyrm. Betty and Sweet Pea had spent the day after using a sharpie on a large rock and marking their names, leaving it in the parking lot. Toni gasped into her hand, choking back tears.

"Betty took the goodbye shots with me," Sweet Pea said. Gazes turned to Betty. She bit her lip, unsure of why Sweet Pea had included her right now.

"Did you maybe…" Betty took this opportunity to pipe up, "Juggie?"

"When I woke up and the tents were on fire, last I saw, he and FP were trying to evacuate some of the younger kids. I tried to run to the hospital to get help, but when I returned, everyone was gone." Toni explained.

A stone lodged itself in Betty's stomach. Hearing it twice was harder than she thought. She tried not to make a noise, but a pained mewling escaped her throat.

"We know where he might have gone, though." Toni added at Betty's sorrowful sigh, "Jughead." She paused, looking back to Sweet Pea. She looked over Sweet Pea's shoulder at Betty, apologetically, "Last we knew, he's alive. FP too. His dad wanted them to go down to Arizona to find his sister and mom. They had a huge fight. Jughead wanted to find you."

Somehow this made Betty feel worse. She felt physically ill.

"I don't know after what I told you." Toni finished, shoulders slumping, "Same with the rest."

"Oh," Sweet Pea sighed, "We looked. For three weeks."

"Longer than we did." Toni's face reddened, "I know I should have stayed longer, but-,"

"Hey, hey. It's a fucking warzone there. I don't blame anyone for leaving and staying alive," Sweet Pea grabbed her shoulders. He seemed to be able to calm her, he did have a leader quality that Betty hadn't seen him use yet. They hadn't needed a leader between the two of them. They'd been equally taking the reins on the situation, she realized. She didn't want to think about how that dynamic would change now that they found more people.

"Only consolation is mommy dear was one of the first to go," Cheryl broke in, shrugging, "I see you sporting your family's heritage, dear Betty."

It was only now that Toni spied Betty's serpent jacket. She didn't' know why she felt so self-conscious.

"I, erm," She fumbled, zipping the fob up and down.

"I gave it to her. Good protection against the walkers." Sweet Pea made it seem like it was completely casual and not a huge deal. Toni and Cheryl nodded, both believing him.

"Cute," Toni commented, "Someone should get a good use of it." Betty was glad that Toni didn't seem against her wearing this.

"Looks good," Ethel added. Betty had nearly forgotten she was still there. She was easily forgettable.

"Is this all that's here?" Betty asked, glancing at the group that now totaled six.

"The giger that strangely-is-not-my-cousin and his lady love are not here, no." Cheryl said. At Betty's totally broken face, she detached herself from Toni, "But…"

It was that but that made Betty's heart pound; she wasn't sure if she should be bracing for bad news or good.

Cheryl just took her hand and steered her to a wooden post near the entrance. Carved in it, carved with the precision that told Betty they hadn't been rushing, was a remembrance.

 _Archie and Veronica were here; May 30th, 2018._

"That was only a few days ago...we just missed them…" Betty whispered. But they had been safe, and for some reason, they'd left. She traced her fingers over it until a splinter caught on the pad of her thumb.

"We think it wasn't anything to do with those... things," Ethel spoke up, "But likely Veronica's parents. This place was pristine when we found it. We saw the damage those creatures do if they get in." Her face darkened. Sweet Pea sucked in his cheeks, scowling.

"Missed 'em again, Sweet Pea," Betty managed to reply with a cracked smile. Toni raised an eyebrow, but didn't say anything.

"I have hope that they're still alive. They're the annoying sort that would, but, for the sake of the human race, I hope they have prevailed." Cheryl said, patting Betty's shoulder.

"Why?" Betty pulled a face. She was under the impression that Cheryl tolerated them both, but only truly liked Toni and Betty, on a good day.

"Those two could repopulate the whole earth with their rabbit-like mating habits. Usually a deplorable trait, but surprisingly useful in a time like this." Cheryl said without missing a beat. Sweet Pea did break out laughing at that. He wheezed, holding his stomach. Betty sent him a look.

"Oh, come on, that's hilarious. It's true too!" Sweet Pea defended himself.

"Feel free to take whichever rooms are open," Cheryl brushed past Betty, "I, for one, am going to bed. Toni's on watch. We'll work you into the rotation tomorrow. Toodles and absent dreams."

"Absent dreams?" Sweet Pea frowned, "Don't you mean 'sweet dreams'."

"Hardly. Any dreams around this time are filled with terror and generally unsavory thoughts. I'd rather just rest and wake up, wouldn't you?"

Toni was grinning, and shrugged at Sweet Pea, "There's one more bedroom open. Are either of you hungry?"

"When isn't he?" Betty murmured, looking at Sweet Pea, "I'll help."

To be honest, she wanted to talk to Toni.

In the Lodge's kitchen, Toni methodically pulled out a few cans.

"So…" Betty hopped on a barstool.

"You and Sweets? That's a pair I thought I'd never see. As travelers." She added after a moment.

"Survival." Betty mumbled into her hand, resting her jaw in her palm as she leant on her elbow, "Hey, do you know his real name?" Yes, it was still bothering her.

"Sure do, but you're not gonna get it out of me." Toni said, looking up and seeing Betty's face, "Oh, he'd kill me if I told you. You have to earn it."

"That's what he said," Betty sighed dramatically.

"He doesn't have much control. His name is something he can," Toni opened the jars, heated them, and handed them to Betty, "If he hears you asking about it, you'll never learn." She advised.

Betty scowled, but shut up about it.

 _June 10th, 2018 (early morning)_

Betty couldn't sleep. Sweet Pea had insisted that she take the remaining bedroom, where he'd take the couch in the living room. She hadn't put up much of a fight, mostly because Betty had wanted the bed.

But now, laying here, she felt on edge. After weeks of searching, she was used to two things this bedroom didn't have; enclosed spaces or Sweet Pea within an arm's length. She didn't need him in the bed, but she'd gotten used to knowing he was close, and vice versa. It was just natural, and the best way to protect themselves.

"You're safe," Betty whispered into the darkness, "You can relax. Get a full eight hours, or more." Somehow, she wasn't convincing herself.

She was semi-glad that the last bedroom wasn't one that her and her friends had touched when they'd first come up here. If she had been in Archie and Veronica's room, she might have been up laughing all night, wondeirng how many times they managed to have sex during that time. If she'd been in the room her and Jughead had been in...that room would only bring her pain and memories. This was the last bedroom...the Lodge's Master Suite. Betty was mildly surprised that Toni and Cheryl hadn't taken it. It was nice and comfortable, but at this point, Betty would have taken a blow-up bed.

Finally, she was just totally unable to drift off. She wondered maybe if she took a lap around the house, just to be sure, she'd be able to convince herself to relax.

She crept out of the bedroom. Toni and Cheryl had taken residence in Archie and Veronica's room, and that door was firmly closed. Betty hadn't been thinking very hard about the configuration of the other two residents, yet when she passed the second bedroom and saw Chuck and Ethel moving together and moaning, she was completely taken off guard. The door was open, probably because they weren't used to a third pair of people wandering around. Betty tiptoed past as quick as she could, completely unwilling to engage in an awkward conversation between the three of them if they saw her.

It should have been obvious,since there was only one more bed and Chuck wasn't camped out on a couch.

In the living room, Sweet Pea was sitting up, leg bouncing and staring at the wall. He glanced up when Betty entered.

"Can't sleep either, eh?"

From even the living room, Betty could hear the creaking of a bed and the breathy moans and winced, unable to answer Sweet Pea's question at the moment.

"Ugg, yeah, I heard that too," Sweet Pea shuddered, "I mean, good for him, I guess."

"They just, I don't understand!" Betty said, "He was awful to her last year. He...ah, I dunno, I just didn't see it." Betty didn't really want to get into Chuck's whole backstory right now, but all that aside.

"The end of the world brings strange couples together." He looked pointedly between the pair of them. He patted the couch next to him, an invitation for her to sit.

"Yeah, as platonic companions." Betty made a face right back, "Not lovers? Fuck buddies?"

"There's nothing like good ole fear to get two people in the sack. Do you know how many kids were probably conceived on December 20th, 2012? Like, a ton, I'm sure." He said.

"They were about six years off," Betty rolled her eyes, "No one was guessing mid-May as the end of it all."

"Maybe the hate-sex is great?" Sweet Pea shrugged, "I guess I don't care. I guess I'm just glad that there's still some pleasure happening, somewhere."

"I hope they're being safe," Betty rubbed her arms. She wondered if Sweet Pea would laugh at her for that being her first thoughts about this, but instead, he just blinked.

"Yeah. Having a kid, even accidently right now, would not only be irresponsible, but dangerous, hella difficult, and just all around a bad idea." He said, one of the few times Betty heard his tone go absolutely serious. Betty wondered if she should bring it up, awkwardly, to Ethel the next morning. Sweet Pea was looking at her, head tilted. He patted the couch more firmly.

"Stop pacing. It's annoying." He said. Since all he'd done was pace at the Lodge's apartment, Betty was tempted to argue that point, but didn't really have the energy.

Betty sat next to him.

"This house feels too big," She wasn't sure why she admitted that, but then again, they'd gotten used to talking about things in the last couple weeks. After the first awkward weeks of silence, slowly, Sweet Pea was opening up. Betty was too.

"Uh-huh," Sweet Pea swallowed, agreeing quietly.

"That's why you couldn't sleep?" Betty guessed.

"Maybe." Sweet Pea looked at his feet.

"I'm not saying you crawl into the bed, but maybe, if you brought the blankets there...we could switch off on the bed, night to night."

"Betty Cooper, platonically inviting me into her bedroom? Scandalous," Sweet Pea whistled, and Betty would feel self-conscious, except for the fact Sweet Pea was already gathering his stuff, "Well, night's wasting." He motioned.

Sweet Pea took a very long time adjusting himself on the floor beneath her, which was still soft and carpeted. She was sure he took a long time just to piss her off, but she realized it wouldn't be Sweet Pea if he didn't. And, once they both had stopped shifting around, Betty closed her eyes and listened to the sound of his breaths as he fell asleep. She dozed off not long after.

 _June 10th, 2018 (Day)_

Cheryl might have made a comment about his move the next morning, but no one else seemed too concerned about it. Plus, she could tell that Sweet Pea was ready to defend her honor, or his. Either way, he seemed completely ready to vouch for the fact that he'd slept on the floor and nothing at all was going on. From the narrowed glare he gave both Toni and Cheryl, he seemed to be daring them to even think about commenting. His power as the leader of the Serpents shut both their mouths. The end of the world had bigger problems than Sweet Pea moving in the the room with Betty, very platonically as Sweet Pea enunciated to no one in particular.

Betty had an chat with Ethel about condoms, to which Ethel replied that Chuck had raided a whole Walgreens' worth and they were good. That was also the last time Betty or Sweet Pea made any comment about anyone's sexual activities. Chuck and Ethel might have also tried to be quieter, since now they knew someone had heard the night previous. Betty didn't hear any noise from Toni or Cheryl's room, not a peep.

Betty and Sweet Pea switched out sleeping on the bed every night, just to be fair. Sweet Pea was a gentleman enough to make sure no one thought badly of Betty, but not quite enough of one to let her take the bed every single night.

They stayed there for only four days before Toni told the pair that her and Cheryl would be moving on in the morning.

"But why?" Betty shook her head, "It's safe here!"

"It was also just a stop along the way," Toni shrugged, "We're going to find my brother. He's in New York, last I heard."

"Toni, it's been a month," Sweet Pea crossed his arms, "Don't be stupid." From the way Toni rounded on him, Betty wouldn't have been shocked if they started throwing punches.

"I'm not being stupid," Toni's fists clenched and Cheryl shot him a deathly glare, "Are you going to tell me I can't go, all great second-in-command?" Her tone was biting.

"Right now, with Jughead MIA, I am the first in command." Sweet Pea's voice grew dark, darker than she'd ever heard. He was pulling rank, something she could see he hated to do.

"So what? Are you going to command me not to? You'd be pretty shitty if you did and I would never forgive you." Toni said.

Sweet Pea looked torn before giving a slow shake of his head, "No, of course not-,"

"Then butt the hell out! I never asked what you thought of it." Toni shoved his chest hard. Sweet Pea didn't even budge. He flexed his fingers, pinching the bridge of his nose. She saw Sweet Pea very carefully trying not to explode at Toni.

"I'm just pointing out that New York is bound to be a thousand times worse than Riverdale and he'd have to be pretty good to still be around." Sweet Pea said. Betty clicked her tongue. Sometimes, Sweet Pea was intelligent. He was deceptively clever, she'd decided. And, it was all well to be the one to fly off the handle when he wasn't a leader, but having other people's lives his responsibility made him more logical, slower to anger. Slower than before, at least.

"He's that good," Toni said resolutely, "I have to look, Sweet Pea! You stayed three weeks in a town of the dead, so don't you dare tell me to not be personal about shit. You aren't going to change my mind."

She got up right in his face, and in that moment, something seemed to click in Sweet Pea's mind. Maybe it was the realization that Toni wasn't bluffing and she couldn't be budged. Instead of lashing out at her, Sweet Pea spun abruptly.

Sweet Pea kicked a chair over, stalking away and muttering under his breath, glaring hard at her.

"I take it you're going too?" Betty asked Cheryl weakly.

"Of course," Cheryl's eyebrows knit together, "Where my amour goes, so do I," She patted Toni's hand gently.

"You should come too, Betty," Chuck offered, "I don't know about you, but I'd rather meet up with a whole group of survivors as compared to just a group of high school kids. There has to be others that are making it near New York."

"Uhm," Betty frowned, looking back at Sweet Pea, picking at the beds of her nails. Sweet Pea had stormed out of the house.

"Betty, you know us, longer than you've known him." Ethel pointed out. She still hadn't warmed up to him. Far as Betty knew, Sweet Pea had never done anything to Ethel so Betty was pretty miffed about this imaginary prejudice.

"I'll think about it." She whispered. She didn't want to say goodbye to more people, not when she'd just found them. Plus, as much as she had hated to admit it when she'd originally found out, Cheryl as her family too and that blow was the hardest. And yet...something in her gut was telling her not to go to New York. Betty didn't believe in superstitions, gut feelings, what have you...she also hadn't believed in flesh eating undead cannibals. She was a little more inclined to listen to that small voice in her head than ever before.

She found Sweet Pea out on the docks, staring at the rippling lake. She saw he had one of the maps he'd knicked from a gas station splayed out. His fingers were tracing the route to New York. Betty had thought he was with her. Well, she wasn't going to stop him, and of course he'd want to stay with his people.

"I'm not going to New York." She said out loud, taking off her socks and shoes and dipping her feet in just a bit. Just to feel the tingle of the water, "But if you want to go, you should."

Sweet Pea seemed less inflamed, and now just made a 'meh' sound. He very carefully folded the map.

"Those are your people, your group. The group you were looking for. Some," She continued, truly not wanting him to feel tied to her. She was choosing not to go for her own reasons, not because of his response after all. Plus, she could see the indecision playing on his face, "And so I'll survive by myself." It was terrifying to admit, but Betty was strong. She wasn't going to have Sweet Pea resent her forever, not out of some weird obligation to keep her safe because Jughead had been his alpha.

She touched his shoulder, a friendly gesture, before standing.

"Well, I'm not going either." Sweet Pea's voice carried when she was nearly back to the shore. He turned, "No serpent left behind. That's you too, Betty." He said, pointing at the jacket she still wore.

"Not even really," She said, downplaying it, "Just by your word of what would have happened. Not what did." In reality, it still felt strange wearing this jacket. She didn't not want to be part of this world. She'd done the Serpent dance, so clearly, that wasn't the issue. The issue is that it felt fractured and a little too late for new members to join up.

Sweet Pea stood, cupping his hands with water.

"I'm the leader when Jughead's gone, aren't I?" He asked her. Betty narrowed her eyes, unsure where he was going with it, but nodded.

He dumped the lakewater unceremoniously over her face. She sputtered, blinking and trying not to swallow it.

"Now punch me."

"What?"

"Punch me. I'm a big girl. Imagine I'm your dad." He said.

Betty gave him the darkest, angriest look she could muster, "I'm not going to punch you, Sweet Pea."

"Just do it, Cooper. Or, are you afraid?" He teased, "Let's be honest, it'll probably hurt you more than it will hurt me." He grinned and she had been egging to do it for a while now, but had only half thought about it. She balled her fingers into a fist and aimed for his chin.

"Congrats," Sweet Pea rubbed his chin, "You're a serpent."

"What was the water for?" Betty asked, rubbing her knuckles. Sweet Pea grasped her wrist, sinking her hand into the lake to soothe her cracked skin. Once it seemed Betty got the idea, he let her wrist go, standing above her and snickering to himself.

"Baptismal, ritual something or other." Sweet Pea patted her head. "Seemed like the right thing to do. Now can I say no serpent left behind?" He rested his elbow on her head, and she tried to shake him off but he kept fast.

Betty gave a deep sigh, "Fine. Yeah. You can come with me, or stay here, whatever." As soon as she agreed, he lessened the pressure, standing back. She turned to see him looking across the lake.

Sweet Pea rubbed his hands, "Excellent."


	4. Track 3: Invincible

**Hey all! I'm back!**

* * *

 _When they finally come to destroy the earth  
They'll have to go through you first_  
 _I bet they won't be expecting that_  
 _When they finally come to destroy the earth_  
 _They'll have to deal with you first_

 _-Invincible, Ok Go_

* * *

 _June 14th, 2018_

That night, they all got a little drunk. They toasted to the parting of friends and to Betty's belated induction to the Serpents. Toni made Betty drunkenly memorized the Serpent code and Betty reprised her dance, but with clothes on this time. Well, some of her clothes.

Betty stood on the coffee table in the living room, a bottle of Hiram's best champagne in her fingers as she swayed slightly side to side. They'd arranged pillows below her to break the fall, in case she lost her balance. She was wearing what Toni had identified as a 'bralette' (but, to Sweet Pea, he wasn't sure how it qualified as clothing), a thin tank top, and a pair of sports shorts. Over top of all of it was her Serpent's jacket, hanging precariously from her shoulders. When she turned around, her shorts rode up and her jacket was far past her usual build, so it seemed like she was wearing no pants if she was viewed from the right angle. Sweet Pea leaned back on the lazy boy near as far back as it could go, swirling whisky between his teeth, tracing Betty's movements. A part of him was surprised no one had called him out on the fact that he was watching her, but maybe everyone was too busy watching Betty too. She was sort of enchanting, he decided, from the soft pout of her lips to the way her bare feet hopped on the smooth wood. It was just like that moment so many moths ago he'd first taken notice of Betty Cooper at the Wyrm, but this time, he had every reason to be watching her.

Holy fuck, she was sort of beautiful, he decided. Even if she was Jughead's girl, Sweet Pea found no fault in looking. No touching, he reminded himself firmly, but looking was allowed.

"Rule 1," Toni asked, legs dangling as she sat on the top of the couch, a wild light glimmering in her eyes.

Betty steadied herself, passing the bottle neck to one of her hands so she could use her other hand to hold up a single finger. At first, Sweet Pea thought she was asking for a moment, until he realized she was counting the rules off.

"No serpent stands alone," She said, her eyes catching Sweet Pea's. She was likely thinking of their conversation on the dock. Sweet Pea remembers being read the rules to learn and being so relieved, hoping to find a family that would not leave him like all the rest did.

"Rule two!"

"If a serpent is killed or imprisoned, their family will be taken care of," Betty said, a fond smile. Sweet Pea didn't have any extended family for this rule to refer to, but all the same, he was pleased that this was the second rule. He knew that maybe Betty was thinking that, if the world was different, having some assurance of her family's safety and well-being was comforting. Well, Alice was already a serpent but still.

"Rule Three," Cheryl interjected, sipping wine as red as her lips.

"A serpent never shows cowardice."

"Rule four."

"No serpent is left for dead." Betty had questioned him on this one when he was going over them with her today. It was similar to the first rule, but Sweet Pea always interpreted it differently. The first rule just meant that you have your buddy's back, that if they need you, you are there. No serpent is left for dead indicates something deeper, something that's about bravery and chivalry without ever outright saying it. It means it literally and figuratively. You take care of your own. You save your own. And, once you're in, you're always in.

"Rule five."

During this, Ethel and Chuck were watching with rapt attention, likely never having been so close to so many serpents before. Betty had been in this world awhile, so the customs didn't surprise her much any more. Chuck was watching like they were a whole other culture, Ethel's face was pinched and Sweet Pea wondered if she was re-thinking her assumptions of their kind.

She hadn't been mean to him since he arrived, but she didn't go out of her way to include him in anything. Perfectly fine, Sweet Pea found her a little insufferable. She was politely nice to Betty, which Betty seemed a little put-off by. It wasn't really Sweet Pea's place to say, but if Ethel had just changed her attitude only because Betty was wearing a jacket now, she was sort of a shitty person. But, what did he know?

"Rule six, the final rule." Toni said, trying to place a sense of seriousness on her lips but failing rather miserably. Betty looked at her hand- already all five fingers up- and to her other one, holding the bottle. With a decisive grin, she chugged the remainder of the champagne, dropping the glass onto the carpet to hold up her sixth finger. Sweet Pea couldn't help but grin, the smile spreading across his face at her at her actions.

"In unity, there is strength." She said.

"In unity, there is strength," Sweet Pea, Toni, and Cheryl all echoed at varying paces. There was a beat of silence before Toni nearly tacked Betty off the table by launching herself at her, accompanied by a high-pitch squeal.

"You're one of us now, for real, Betty!" She said. Sweet Pea smirked, pulling out his phone from his pocket and playing 'I Got A Feeling' in celebration. It took a second, but Betty righted herself from the attack-hug and hopped back onto the table and began to dance.

It wasn't the seductive twirling she'd done on the pole at the Wyrm, but this was light-hearted and fun and carefree. Betty spun on her heels, her blond hair flying out as she giggled uncontrollably.

That got Toni dancing, as well as Ethel of all people. Ethel managed to rope Chuck into one dance, and he took her hand and spun her. Cheryl joined in after Toni poking her into annoyance and at one point, Betty looked at Sweet Pea as if to say 'you too'. Sweet Pea just held up his palms, shaking his head. Sweet Pea didn't dance, or wouldn't right now, right here. Betty just sighed, but let him remain and he found he was perfectly happy just to watch it all unfold.

It was the most fun Betty had had since this whole thing started. Sweet Pea just sat back on the recliner, watching her and grinning. He got happier when he was drunk. She supposed, under these circumstances, so did she. Sweet Pea provided the music, clicking through different genres and decades, finding at least one song that pleased each person. They were not so careful about making noise, probably not as careful as they should have been, because tonight was about letting go, because who knew the next time they'd have such a luxury?

They all fell asleep in a lump together on the floor, a tangle of limbs and shot glasses that were once filled with vodka.

 _June 15th, 2018_

In the morning, all of them still alive but very much hungover, they made their parting goodbyes. Betty wasn't sure what was worse; never having the chance to say goodbye at all or knowing, deep down, that this could likely be the last time you'd ever see someone. That, if someone were placing bets, it was a safe guess one group would be dead not long after. How do you say goodbye and say everything all at once? How to do you find the words to express feelings for people that you know very well or people you know only in passing?

Sweet Pea seemed just as fumbling as she did, just staring at Toni for a long time, face stoney. His whole posture slumped low and Betty could tell by the way he held his jaw he was trying hard not to cry. For as strong as he seemed, it was moments like this that reminded Betty how young they all were; kids, really. Kids dealing with issues much beyond their reach and completely alone in it.

"I wish there was a way to let you know how to find us," Toni was crying as she hugged Sweet Pea. Betty had learned enough to know they'd known each other since first grade. They were like brother and sister. Her own blood had won her over, though. If Betty didn't know Sweet Pea better, she'd argue that might have hurt his feelings, since Toni's other brother was six years their senior and had always been sort of a rat of a person.

"I want to say also that I'll see you again one day but…" Toni took a step back. There wasn't much to say between them, so Betty wondered if they'd done their goodbyes earlier, out of curious ears.

"We don't know," Chuck cut in, "I sincerely hope we do meet again." He sounded very genuine and Betty even let him hurt her, "Good luck to you both."

"May your paths lead you where it needs to," Cheryl said, which was just like her to be strange a cryptic and make Sweet Pea look a little uncomfortable. He sent Betty a look over Cheryl's head, one that looked halfway between amused and weirded-out.

"Eh, thanks?" He said, a little unsure on how to reply. Cheryl just smiled at him as though she knew a secret he did not, but Betty told Sweet Pea she always looked like that.

 _June 15th 2018 (Night)_

They foursome left at dawn.

"We're never gunna see them again," Sweet Pea sighed as he watched their car speed away.

"You sound so sure." Betty said, closing the door tightly and double-checked their safeguards. Now that it was back to the two of them, her instincts were on high-alert. It was scary how quickly her mind fell back into double-person survival mode. She supposed this was just going to be her new normal.

"You said you had a gut feeling about New York," Sweet Pea pulled his arms across his chest, almost looking ill, "I have a feeling about this."

Sweet Pea spent the rest of the night curled up on the couch, looking like a kicked puppy. He moped, a blanket curled tightly over him, staring out at the rippling lake. Betty found ways to busy herself, to make herself not think about the group of four that had just left. Or that her friends had been here and were no longer. Or that Jughead was gone. Or-

She pursed her lips in frustration, shaking her head. That is exactly why she threw herself into things, because her thoughts were poison of late.

At one point, after Betty forced Sweet Pea to eat dinner, he looked up at her.

"Before, this morning," he said, startling her. His voice was ragged and he still was pouting, "Toni told me something. She didn't know if we should tell you. I wasn't, but-"

He broke off. Betty wondered if he was going to say that she had a right to know or on the flip side, he wanted Betty to be as miserable right now as he was. Either way, he seemed to consider it for a second longer before speaking again. Betty was behind him, reading through the books on the shelf, but completely paused, unsure on if she should look at him or not.

"It's about Jughead." He added. Betty wanted to scream 'tell me' but found her lips would not move. She stayed absolutely frozen in place.

"Ah, fucking hell," She heard Sweet Pea mutter underneath his breath before continuing, "She didn't...she wasn't even sure if what she saw was true, so she didn't think there was a reason to broadcast it but I should know because, you know, I'm second in command and so…" He began, rambling. In that moment, Betty feared the worst. At the least, she knew whatever he was about to say was nothing good.

Sweet Pea didn't seem to notice that her back had gone stiff or that she had not uttered a peep yet, "Toni, while trying to evacuate," He said, gathering his thoughts and speaking with a smooth tone, one tinged with apology, "Thinks she might have seen Jughead get bitten."

The book that was in Betty's hand slipped from her fingers and clattered to the ground. She felt her legs buckle next as she collapsed in a puddle on the floor.

First, she felt a biting anger. An anger that Toni knew this and did not tell her. Even if she missaw things, she at least thought she saw enough to tell Sweet Pea, to worry about this.

Next, she felt agony. If it was true, Jughead was as good as dead.

After, Betty just felt nothing at all.

Sweet Pea looked up from the side of the couch, cussing. He got up, stumbling over where he was tangled in the blanket.  
"I knew it was a bad idea to tell you," He said, going to help her up.

"Don't touch me!" Betty snapped out of her fugue, standing up and stalking far away. She didn't hear Sweet Pea call after her and Betty locked herself in one of the bedrooms to try to deal with this information.

When she came back out, Sweet Pea likely assumed she'd sobbed up there until she could no more. That wasn't true. Betty hadn't shed a tear. She'd wanted to, but hadn't. She didn't know why.

She hoped it was because a part of her knew Jughead was alive and you didn't cry over the living.

The pair of them existed in Lodge Lodge in a state of anger and disappointment. At one point, when a group of walkers were too close, Betty- who was just sitting and looking out a window- watched Sweet Pea grab his baseball bat from the door and go outside, taking them all out with more violence than was necessary. Right now, Betty sort of wanted to have that same outlet for a release too.

When Sweet Pea returned inside, his whole body was covered in walker guts and he was heaving hard. There was a wild glint in his eyes, one that Betty would have found dangerous before.

"I think," He said while catching his breathe, "I'm going to put nails in the bat, to make it hit harder. Like Steve Harrington. You ever seen Stranger Things? And I-,"

"Sweet Pea," Betty cut him off with a sharp edge, "I don't really care."

"Yeah," Sweet Pea said after a beat, blinking, "You're right. OG Bat is the best."

She frowned in disgust, "You are so gross right now. Go wash off outside." She instructed.

"Ack, fine, fine." Sweet Pea waved a hand, "Want to come watch?" He asked.

When Betty began to stammer and blush red, he gave her an utterly innocent look, "So that you can tell me when I'm properly clean, Cooper. God, what were you thinking of?"

Any other time, Betty might be relieved he was feeling good enough to joke with her. After dropping the Jughead bomb on Betty not too long ago, however, Betty wasn't really in the mood for his antics.

"Fuck off, Sweet Pea," She snapped, stalking away, "You could go drown in a lake for all I care."

She felt bad about it later, because Sweet Pea had done her a solid by telling her about Jughead. In truth, she was mad at Toni. But Toni and the rest of her group might be dead already, so she thought it was poor form to be mad at someone dead and thus she was taking her anger out on Sweet Pea.

When she apologized that night, Sweet Pea hardly seemed upset.

"I get it," He said after a second, "I guess I'm sorry too. You seemed so put-together after they left and I just lay there, like a slump. I wanted to…"

He didn't finish his sentence, but Betty knew. She didn't think she could fault Sweet Pea for being who he was; a selfish serpent. This wasn't new. She knew this. She'd feel unusually disappointed, had he not apologized about it.

 _June 17th, 2017_

They never talked about what their plans were now, but they both knew this place wasn't going to last. It was too close to other major cities to not have tragedy strike. They let themselves sit here, work through their muddled feelings in relative safety. Once Sweet Pea was feeling better, he went through and ransacked Lodge Lodge just as he'd done at the apartment back in Riverdale.

"It's the end of the world. I hardly think you need Hermes ties," Betty said when he stuffed the fabric into his 'take' bag.

"Oh, so you think!" Sweet Pea said, "I've never in my life been rich enough to even breathe near this shit. I'm going to enjoy it now that I can." He said. He dangled a pair of heels in front of her, "And you can't tell me that these Louboutins aren't just screaming your name?"

"No," Betty crossed her arms, "Heels are a stupid, stupid idea in this climate." She pointed out. She did spy a Prada handbag in the back and couldn't stop herself. When Sweet Pea gave her a raised eyebrow with a smirk, she argued, "You always needs bags for things. This, Sweet Pea, is a reasonable thing to take. I'm surprised you even know the names of these brands."  
"What, cuz I'm a guy? Sexist much?" Sweet Pea said, but he was only teasing, "Naw, it was Fangs. He always liked this expensive shit. Said one day he was gunna make it big and be able to buy these things like Hiram always did." Sweet Pea ran the pads of his fingers across one of the ties, "I guess, I'm taking them because I really want to see Fangs again one day and he'd flip if I gave him this stuff."

"Does it matter that there's no one around anymore to be impressed that you're wearing it?" Betty asked, an honest question.

"I think just wearing it for himself would be good enough." Sweet Pea decided.

And they continued going through the house for supplies.

It was a couple days past the month anniversary when they heard the screaming across the lake, the screaming of people being eaten alive. When the screaming stopped, they didn't think it was because the walkers had been dealt with. It was because the walkers had killed them. And that's when they sort of realized that this place was going to fall and it was time to go. Neither of them had to speak as they quickly gathered their things and began packing the car to leave again.

Sweet Pea got on the top of the roof, peering through a pair of binoculars, "The herd's about fifteen away. We should be gone in at least eight." He said, "You finish packing."

"And what, pray tell, are you going to do?" Betty asked, miffed that he was vanishing, shoving another box into the back of the van.

"Just...pack," He urged and Betty rolled her eyes. She wasn't going to let his weird moment take away from getting out safely and as prepared as they could have been. She didn't grab his stuff, though, only their shared supplies and her own things. If Sweet Pea didn't think it was worth it to be loading now, he could leave his stuff.

When there were only Sweet Pea's garbage bags of Hermes ties, bad 80s CDs, and god knows what else, she went to find him. Looking at her watch, they still had three minutes before their eight was up.

She found him at the post, the one where Veronica and Archie had written something. Her nagging she'd been about to unleash on him stopped as she just watched what he was doing. When he turned, he jumped to see her right behind him.

"Thought we might leave our mark too. Just in case." He said, tucking his pocket knife into his shoe. He'd written their own names along with the day's date.

It was a soft, almost touching thing for him to do, but Betty nor Sweet Pea could do much more than catch each other's eyes as they continued the pack the truck. He managed to convince her into helping him with his stuff, because the sooner it was in the van, the sooner they could 'blow this popsicle joint' as Sweet Pea said.

"All good." Betty said, sliding into the driver's seat, "C'mon Sweets!" She'd taken to starting to use the nickname Toni had called him, feeling more comfortable with him than before.

Sweet Pea was sprinting across the gravel as a walker emerged from the trees. Sweet Pea was well on his way to outpacing it and the car was running, so Betty was ultimately dismayed when he paused to go back to the walker. There was a look on his face, one like someone was inches away from seeing a hurricane pick them up. Betty did not understand the look. She did not understand what he was doing.

He wasn't so reckless, he had a certain affinity with life and he liked to keep himself there. So, running toward a walker was something he'd call 'doing a Jughead', or, putting one's self in unnecessary danger. Had he lost his fucking mind?

She yelled out the window, flashing the headlights and saw a glimpse of the walker coming toward Sweet Pea. She was more confused for her friend, though, and terror gripped her. She held her breath and gripped the steering wheel tight, counting mississippi's in her head, as though that would make time continue faster. Sweet Pea smashed the head in of the walker four times, and then two times after it stopped moving, and nabbed something from the arm area before leaping into the car. They barely had the door closed before they were skidding away, missing the herd shambling toward the Lodge Lodge. Sweet Pea was watching in the rearview and Betty only saw a glimpse of the way that the walkers felled the doors.

Betty gripped the steering wheel so tightly her knuckles turned white. She realized what she was doing and loosened her grip, but not before sending Sweet Pea a furious snarl.

"What?" Sweet Pea noticed her expression.

"What the hell was that?" Betty's voice was low, dangerous.

"I-,"

"No! God, what were you thinking? Clearly, nothing! You could have been killed, Sweet Pea!" She thundered, swerving left and right through the woods, pushing maybe a little too hard on the gas.

"Didn't know you cared." Sweet Pea said, and he usually would have had a tone of haughtiness to him, if he wasn't grabbing the sides of the car and didn't look a bit green, "Wouldya calm the brakes, there, Coop-"

"Shut it!" She said and Sweet Pea didn't speak. Cooper looked and realized she was going near 100 MPH and did cool down to a reasonable 70 for the winding roads out of the woods. When she collected her breaths back, she gave Sweet Pea a look.

"I...I don't want to be in this alone. Plus, I'd have to kill you," Her voice broke a little, "What the hell was so important about kill that one fucking walker, Sweet Pea?"

In response, Sweet Pea just held up a watch. He turned the back of it around and Betty let herself be distracted from the road for just a moment, just enough to see the writing on the back.

 _'To HL, may we have many wondrous years more, love HL.'_

Betty frowned, thinking back to what the walker had looked like, although she'd only given it a passing glance. Now that she was focusing herself to think to it, she couldn't not see the imagine that had floated to her mind.

The realization made her skid to a stop on the road, spinning around and looking at Sweet Pea with wild eyes.

"That was Hiram?" She said.

Sweet Pea gave a tense nod.

Betty felt something rise in her throat and before she could stop herself, she'd thrown open the door and was vomiting on the side of the road. Sweet Pea jumped down, holding her hair back and patting her back.

She'd seen grosser things, but it was the lightbulb moment that she'd just seen her best friend's father's head brutally caved in and his gray matter spilled across the pavement. It was one of the first walkers she'd seen that she'd known very closely. Yeah, he was a shitty person, but that still didn't mean that she was gleeful about this.

Sweet Pea might have been.

"You feel like you've avenged it now?" She managed, using one of the water bottles they had to clean out her mouth.

"I wish I coulda been the one to kill him the first time, but yeah," He did seem less anxious, "It felt really satisfying to bludg...I mean, to kill him again." He switched when he noticed Betty looked a little green again, "I'm sorry."

"Don't be. I don't know why I'm acting so strangely about it." Betty sighed.

"Probably because you're wondering if the same fate happened to the rest of them." Sweet Pea said. Betty felt the panic invade her, until Sweet Pea shook his head, "He was wearing some of the same clothes that he was wearing the day he had your friend arrested. Which means he hadn't changed. A man with a closet like his? He wouldn't spend more than a couple hours in each set." Sweet Pea scoffed, "And we know that Veronica and Andrews made it to at least ten days ago. I think they're okay."

"Gut feeling?" Betty asked.

"Gut feeling," He agreed.

Betty climbed back into the driver's seat, sighing.

"How would you feel about going to Arizona?" She asked. When Sweet Pea shrugged, she continued to blabber, "I know you said it's stupid to look for people and I know that Jughead isn't specifically your favorite, but I just gotta look, and-,"

"Hey, yeah, cool." Sweet Pea agreed, cutting her off.

They drove without talking for the next couple hours. Sweet Pea had managed to find an aux cable and played whatever songs he liked on his ipod while Betty's mind wandered. They made great time, considering that they didn't have to obey traffic laws anymore and there wasn't much traffic to meet to begin with. There were a couple places where the cars bottlenecked, abandoned, but overall they covered ground.

Sweet Pea never expressed displeasure about their course, but Betty couldn't let it go. She'd been told she had a problem with that. Not letting things go, that is. It had helped her catch Jason's killer and The Black Hood, so she liked her natural tendency, but she knew it could also be a negative personality trait. She sort of wished she had just let this one go, in hindsight.

"Are you sure you're fine with going to Arizona? Because just say it, and we can try somewhere else first." She asked again when they found a place to sleep for the night.

"Yes. I'm fine." Sweet Pea sent her a look that told her she should drop it. They had a tiny, tiny fire set up. They didn't want it to get too big in case that would alert walkers and put up a homing beacon for them, but the night air was cool enough to need some sort of warmth. Betty was not about to snuggle up to Sweet Pea, so she'd take the risk of a fire anyday.

"I just...it's been what I've suggested this whole time. You haven't offered up any plans." She pointed out, "It's about my friends, these places. I've been selfish."

"And?"

"Well," Betty ventured, knowing even as she said it she should have just stopped there, "Don't you have anyone or any other family to seek out?"

"Trying to get rid of me?" He asked, almost teasing, but his eyes flashing. They were inside of a convenience store, in the back offices, munching on chips. The fire was contained in a metal box. Betty uncorked a Dr. Pepper, which had long gone warm, but still had fizz.

"Not at all. I just figured there were others you must wanna see…try to make contact with...besides people in Riverdale." Betty had a whole list of others from around the USA, and even in other countries, she was worried about. The people from her internship. People she'd played with at camp as a kid. People she knew from the internet. She had a hard time imaging that Sweet Pea seemed totally cool with her taking the reins, that there was no one but the Serpents he was even a glimmer curious about.

"No." His voice was rough. Betty hadn't really heard, though, and was still continuing on from her last question.

"But, what about grandparents?" Betty asked, "Or, other serpents. Like, ones who went away from Riverdale. Would any of them-,"

"Just fucking drop it, Cooper!" Sweet Pea was suddenly in her face, going from 0 to 100 so swiftly that Betty choked a little on her soda, "What do you want me to say? That I don't have fucking anyone? That I'm a goddamn loner? That my father skipped town as soon as my mother came back with a positive test?"

"Sweet Pea," Betty weakly tried to stop him, knowing full well she'd crossed a line, however, Sweet Pea was too furious to let him cut him off. She didn't want him to say that. She hadn't meant to be invading his personal life. She just didn't want this whole adventure in the apocalypse to be about her. Sweet Pea was on his feet, still yelling.

"Or that my mother was a fucking bitch that treated me like shit and died of an overdose when I was twelve? That I was the one that found her? That I survived pretty much on my own until a year later FP found me and helped me into the Serpents? That it's not too much different, I'm still on my own, expect sometimes someone gives a damn about me? That they might bring me a bag of pasta if I don't have food, which more often, I don't? That the serpents are the only family I fucking know and besides you and Toni and Cheryl everyone else is likely dead? That I'm alone again?"

"Sweets," Betty shook her head, swallowing hard, "I didn't…"

"You knew Jughead, Betty. Why would you think my life was any better than his?" He asked seriously and Betty came up with no answers. He grabbed her, yanking her up to be inches away from him. Betty was about to say that he was hurting her, until he realized he wasn't. He was holding her wrist tightly, but not to the point of pain. The realization that he wasn't trying to hurt her, mixed with the tension that was pulled taught across his face caused Betty to go blank for just a second.

She looked at his eyes and saw tears on the edges, one of the most surprising thing she'd seen from him. When he realized what she saw, Sweet Pea jutted his chin up so that she didn't have a good view anymore.

He was still in her face. He grabbed her fingers unexpectedly, trailing his hand up from her wrist to ghost over her palms and finally to her fingers. He held onto a couple by the knuckles, dragging them across his tattoo on his neck.

"Wanna know why it's here?" He asked, voice low, almost dangerous. Betty felt her fingers brush against a rough texture, "To cover up where my momma burned me when I didn't cook her dinner one night. To remind me that there were other people besides the woman that gave a damn. That I was stronger than that. I guess I wouldn't be here, alive, if I wasn't."

Betty felt tears prickle at the edge of her eyes. She felt sick and angry he had to go through this. She felt stupid for assuming that his life wouldn't have been as bad, if not worse, than Jughead's. She felt like she needed to do something, because Sweet Pea was out here all alone with her, his entire family gone and he was showing signs of falling apart. Maybe that's why he'd made her a serpent. Maybe he was so desperately trying to repair, remake a family.

She threw her arms around him, pulling him down to hug her, which was hard to do when he was so tall.

"Think a hug will make it better, Betty?" He asked, trying to sound still upset with her, but the undertone told her he was touched by the gesture. Her fingers rubbed against his neck tattoo again. She could feel when he swallowed hard and she could feel the pounding of his heart. It jumped like a jackrabbit and she could tell he was unused to people initiating such movement. Sure, Toni had hugged him, but Betty could guess that Toni was in a totally different category than anyone else. So, to show him that she was here, she hugged him harder. After a long moment, Sweet Pea's arms pulled around her too, and he rested his chin on her hair. Betty's hand was still lightly resting on his neck, and she pulled it down to pull tight across his back like her other arm.

"I was really stupid," She admitted, "that was all stupid. I'm sorry you had to go through that. It's not much, but I am." She said.

"She's dead, and has been for awhile," Sweet Pea sighed, but didn't shake Betty off him, "I was serious before. You're part of my family now, so I only need to go where you are." It would have sounded romantic in any other context, but Betty knew this wasn't the case. There was a 'love' there, she considered, a small growing one, one between two people that were in something for better or worse.

"You don't care about finding Jughead? FP?" She asked, pulling back.

"FP more than Jughead, though, I wouldn't be upset if we were to find Jug. Not anymore. I just wanna survive this goddamn nightmare. And if it comes to it, I don't want to die alone." He said.

"That's understandable," Betty thought of Hiram. He'd likely died alone both of his times, which was a sad way to go, "I always thought you got a neck tattoo to be a badass and get laid." She admitted.

Sweet Pea laughed, but it still sounded a little bit pained, "Well, those reasons too." He agreed, "A whole month without sex. I don't know how I'm managing."

Sweet Pea not being a virgin didn't surprise Betty. She wasn't sure he was as experienced as he was passing himself off as right now, because Sweet Pea liked to inflate his ego around Betty. She decided to send him back a sassy smirk.

"Me neither," Betty agreed, and Sweet Pea swung his head around, "What? You think me and Jughead hadn't done it?" She asked with wide innocent eyes.

"Frankly? Naw. Didn't think Jughead had it in him. Congrats?" He offered, raising his palms up.

"Jughead totally has it in him," Betty felt the need to defend her...she frowned, realizing that the word 'boyfriend' hadn't sprung ot her head immediately.

"What?" Sweet Pea asked.

"I...hmm," Betty chewed on her lip. What were her and Jughead? When the other was probably thinking the other was dead, even if they had a little bit of hope? When she hadn't seen him at all in a month? When the world was ending, "Would you say that Jughead and I are still...dating?" She asked, trying to explain her dilemma.

"Do you date at the end of the world?" Sweet Pea quirked an eyebrow.

Betty slumped her shoulders lower.

"I mean, if you want to still be dating, you can," Sweet Pea offered weakly, seeing her expression.

"I just don't know. I mean, it's silly. With all the times we were off and on we only dated for maybe five or six months. And he said that he loved me after just like a month. It all felt like so much more time when we were chasing murders and everything. I never thought I would fall for someone so fast but I feel like I do and now, what if he's gone? Do I spend the rest of my life hoping?"

"It's only been a month, Betts," Sweet Pea shifted, "We might still find him."

Betty wiped her eyes with the back of her hand, "He used to call me Betts."

Sweet Pea matched her expression, "I know." He whispered.

For some reason, that's what sent Betty over the edge, and after that she just couldn't stop crying. She tried to bite her hand to keep herself from being too loud, and she hated that she just broke down in front of Sweet Pea, but the reality of it all weighed upon her. They'd been out here a month. More than a month. The world had been fucked up for nearly five weeks.

A month without Jughead. If someone had asked her how she would do that two months ago, she would have felt like her world was ending. Even when they were broken up, he wasn't far away.

But here she was, the world actually ended, and she'd survived. She wondered if it would feel this easy as the months wore on to continue to survive?

"Hey, hey," Sweet Pea looked unsettled at her crying, but scootched over, doing his best. He let her ease into his jacket and cry on his shirt, "I mean, who am I to judge love?" He pointed out, "What if it was?"

"What if it wasn't? And I'm sending myself on a suicide mission? And if I did, what if Toni was right and Jughead is already dead and he's been dead this whole time?" Betty managed to ask. She saw Sweet Pea open his mouth, but no words followed as he realized he didn't have anything to help console her, "I hate this! I hate this!" She threw her empty chip packets at the wall.

"Yeah," Sweet Pea whispered, and she hardly noticed- but indeed did after a second- when he curled his fingers protectively around her waist, pulling Betty in closer, "Me too."

* * *

 **So, sorry this chapter took so long to get out. I had to do a major rehaul (re-write most scenes to fit into the narrative I'm telling now compared to how I was telling it when I wrote this) and I was also finishing up writing another fic. But, I won't lie, the lack of reviews on this really made me not as inspired to write or update this as I am with other stories.**

 **Also, I plan on writing a couple other stories in this universe, including a Choni one and also a Varchie one about what they're getting up to during all this.**

 **So, really, if ya have a second...drop a review. Make my long day at work better.**


	5. Track Four: Four Winds

**Took about two weeks, but yay, I finally have this new chapter up :) I am going to try to stick to updating this about every two weeks, get on SOME sort of schedule, you know?**

 **I had a couple more reviews on this chapter, so thank you very much! I hope you all enjoy!**

 **Song for this chapter is Four Winds, specifically the cover by The Killers! Enjoy!**

* * *

 _June 18th, 2018_

They made their way back through the forest, towards Riverdale. Neither wanted to enter back into Riverdale, which meant they'd have to go around it, but both were okay with this.

"I don't even want to look at it," Sweet Pea had sighed, eyes averted from even the direction of their hometown. Betty understood. If she recalled how the town was only a couple weeks after the end of the world, she shuddered to think of how it would look now. Stopping in towns and seeing other small towns decimated and abandoned was hard, because every place would feel like Riverdale, but to go around and just reiterate that their childhood haunts, as well as their childhood innocence, had been destroyed...well, Betty couldn't phantom.

She even considered if it would be worth it to see if anyone else had turned back up, but short of a 100% assurance of someone's livelihood in that town, there was no way they were going to go.

It was on the way out of town that made Betty wish they'd just gone through town instead of taking the long way around. On one of the roads they were traveling on, one on the outskirts that was near Greendale and the river, they came across a pile of cars blocking the road.

Doors were thrown open and left saluting the pavement, luggage was strewn around the ground as though people had pilfered it or someone was looking in a hurry, a couple pieces of car bumpers or other metal around where one car had crashed into another. And, it looked the site of a murder, which it just very well might have been.

The pavement around the cluster of cars was brown with dried blood and bits of walker guts still was on the ground, sticky and crusty. There were two walkers lumbering around, and when their van stopped and realized they were going to have to move the cars to get through, they came up and started bumping into the side like roombas against a wall.

"I'll get this," Sweet Pea gave a dramatic sigh, reaching under his seat for his bat. Betty, though, rolled down a window just enough to reach a hand out and stabbed her walker in the brain. She offered the knife to Sweet Pea, who muttered but accepted it would be an easier kill. They stayed in the car to decide which cars they would move where first, and talked about if it was worth the time and effort to search these cars that might have nothing of value or if they should just get back on the road. Betty didn't want to turn down the opportunity to get supplies, but she was doubtful it would be worth their time to be out in the open, digging through cars. Sweet Pea thought that there might be some good shit that had been passed over, stuff that maybe weren't in stores. They bickered about it for a good ten minutes.

"Let's just move the cars and then we'll see how long it takes," Betty finally said, frustrated and growing very sweaty in the car already. The weather was starting to warm up, and it would only get warmer. It made the stench of the walkers that had been left out, as well as the ones they just killed, pretty gag-worthy.

Then, they rolled up their sleeves and began by pushing the first car off the side of the road. They just sort of needed to get them into the side ditch and gravity would do the rest of the work from there. After the first car, Sweet Pea dug around underneath the seats and came back up with a bag of weed, triumphant.

"People keep the best shit at their feet." Sweet Pea said.

"Yeah, okay, so there's that. We shouldn't be getting high until we're safe, and you could search all of these cars and not find anything else worth the time," Betty rolled her eyes.

"I bet you've never even done it," Sweet Pea said. When Betty raised a questioning eyebrow, he made a motion of smoking a joint.

"No," Betty felt her cheeks redden, "I haven't! I didn't want to, you know, ruin my chances into a good school."

"Seems so silly now," Sweet Pea snorted, "You could have been getting drunk and high and thrown in county jail every weekend and that might have been a better use of your time than memorizing french or shit." He waved a hand, "No matter, when we are safe, I'm gunna see what Betty Cooper looks like high."

"Il faudra me passer sur le corps," Betty shot back, hands on her hips. For a second, Sweet Pea just squinted at her and she felt a momentary flash of pride, until he laughed.

"Ca peut se faire," Sweet Pea replied back with a haughty smile, pointing at a dead walker, albeit in slightly broken and stumbling French, but French all the same. When Betty stood with her jaw hanging, Sweet Pea gave a delivish lick of his lips and a shrug, "I managed to get drunk, high, and learn French all at the same time. A little bit of German too. I like languages." He said, shrugging.

"But...but you weren't in French classes at Riverdale High," Betty said, frowning.

"Duolingo," Sweet Pea said, "Now, c'mon, weren't you the one saying no dallying about in the open?" He was jogging up the incline back to the cars. When Betty cleared her shock and arrived back up, he was coming back to a white Buick halfway smashed against a tree.

"I thought we were moving that one next?" Betty pointed to the mom van on the other side of the road.

"I, ahh," Sweet Pea said, head low, "We're already over here, let's just get this one."

"God, you're a terrible liar." Betty narrowed her eyes, walking past him with a snort. As soon as Sweet Pea grabbed her arm to stop her, Betty knew she had to go over there. She yanked her arm out and came around the car.

She stiffened when she saw what was behind the car.

"That's...that's Jughead's, isn't it?" Betty asked, but in reality, she didn't need to question. SHe'd been on the back of that enough times to know it personally.

"Mh-hmm," Sweet Pea agreed, standing behind her, forehead crinkled. He was staring at her intently, and she figured he knew why...he was waiting for her to break.

The bike itself was totaled, completely un-ridable. Bits of it were all over the road at least ten feet up. Betty bit the isnider of her cheeks and just swallowed hard.

"Well obviously, we need to move this too before we can keep going," Betty said, starting to use her legs to shove it to the side. Sweet Pea watched her for a moment more, "I mean, he could be fine still. He could be on the back of FP's ride, or they got a car, or-,"

"Yeah, no, you're right," Sweet Pea agreed, "No reason to think anything else." He said. Betty heaved out a sigh, just wanting to clear his bike as quick as possible. Sweet Pea began collecting metal bits in his arms to throw into the trees while Betty shoved the bike to the side. She checked in the bins on it, but found nothing. A part of her was hoping for one of his shirts or flannels or anything of his, but it was completely empty. That was a good thing, right? It meant that someone had to take things from it?

But there was a lot of blood around the bike. Far too much to settle Betty's nerves. It was also coming from the area that the bike had crashed around. Of course, she wasn't a doctor, so Betty couldn't say-especially from dried blood- what was too much to lose. And even then, they could have taken him to a clinic and stopped it themselves. FP seemed like the sort who would know random medical stuff. She tried to ignore the walker guts in the area too, and she liked to think that this was one that Jughead had killed.

She spied a part of the bike, a handlebar, under the van and got on her hands and knees to get it. As she pulled it out, it brought something soft with it.

"Hey, that first aid kit still in the front of the van? A piece of that metal just sliced my hand open like you wouldn't believe," Sweet Pea said, coming back toward her with a fist clenched tight, speaking through his teeth, "Betty?"

Betty sat on her haunches, staring at the gray crown hat in her lap, along with a scrap of a well-worn flannel. Both were ripped and covered in blood. She stuttered a couple half-baked, near words.

"Oh, damn," Sweet Pea shifted nervously on his feet before crouching down. His fist was dripping blood onto the pavement, "I mean, like his bike, that's not definitive proof-,"

"He's dead," Betty broke in, the articulation seeming to bounce through the empty roads. She pulled in a shaking breath, "He's dead, he's dead and I know it."

"I-," Sweet Pea shook his head.

"No, no, no…" Betty began to murur, cycling through grief and agony, curling up on the ground, pulling the hat close. Her fingers kneaded into it and her cheek pressed onto the gritty ground. The hope that she'd felt through everything, the hope that burned defiantly in her heart, was gone.

"It's just a hat. If it came down to life or a hat, well, it's obvious what-," Sweet Pea was still trying to tell her.

"It's not 'just' a hat," Betty whispered in such a small voice that she didn't think Sweet Pea heard it, "And his flannel is here too. I don't...he isn't...Sweet Pea, I just know it. I do, I do." She said, gasping out and feeling like someone was shoving her underwater and not letting her up. Sweet Pea looked just as solemn as Betty felt. Maybe, despite his words, he knew it too.

Sweet Pea wrapped his hand with a shirt, leaving her there to mourn. He moved all of the cars by himself, never asking Betty to move. Betty just lay there, inhaling the scent of Jughead that still lingered.

If Toni had seen him get bitten and that hadn't done him in, this did. She didn't know what happened, and despite not wanting to know, her mind couldn't stop shoving scenarios into her mind. He was bitten and didn't know that it killed you so he got out of town before he'd started to get the fever and they'd taken his body away. They'd been attacked by walkers and Jughead, knowing he was already bit, had stayed behind and had been eaten. He hadn't been bit, but had still perished, the walkers had overwhelmed him and they hadn't been able to save him.

It didn't matter, did it, though?

After the road was clear, Sweet Pea got low on the ground next to her.

"What are you doing?" She croaked, her voice rough.

"Paying respects with you, on the ground," Sweet Pea replied. Betty didn't have an answer to that. After a moment of silence, he looked her in the eye.

"We have to go, Betty. I know it's tempting to want to stay here-,"

"Stay here?" Betty frowned, jolting up, "I'm not stupid. I want to survive." Jughead would want her to survive, she knew. Her words weren't inspiring much belief, she realized, since she'd said it completely monotone.

"Oh, ah, great." Sweet Pea offered her a hand. She took it and he helped her up. Sweet Pea went to the van, checking the status of his hand. Betty paused with Jughead's hat in her fingers. In a moment of, well, Betty didn't know what, she chucked it as hard as she could into the forest. Betty knew it was stupid to be angry of the dead, but she sort of still felt like she was right now. Or she didn't want the reminder. Or she shouldn't hang onto it. She didn't know, but she felt a little lighter when she got rid of it.

Sweet Pea was motioning to the passenger door, "C'mon, you're not in a state to drive." Betty did not disagree. She curled up into the seat, staring forward blankly. Sweet Pea looked back.

"I saw some pallets of water in a car. I'm going to go grab them," When Betty didn't respond at all, he blew air out through his nose, "Okay, yep. Good. You stay there?"

Betty hardly registered his return, or when he started driving for that matter. She didn't register anything at all, since her mind was currently disassociating to a world where Jughead wasn't eaten by walkers and they were still students and life was grand. She was so out of it that it was hours before she came back, and the thing that did bring her back was Sweet Pea nearly crashing their car. Once he swerved to avoid a deer, and paused, Betty unbuckled her seatbelt. The seat belt she didn't remember buckling. Had Sweet Pea done it? Christ, they'd been driving four hours already and it had felt like just a second, just a blink.

"Switch seats," Betty said firmly.

"No, no, if you need to stare out into the road longer, I can-,"

"Apparently not," Betty almost smiled, "Because if I do that, you're going to kill us. No time for luxuries like mourning in the apocalypse, right?"

"Betty, I don't think you're all there yet." Sweet Pea said frankly.

"I am, really." Betty blinked at him once, "Look, Jughead is dead. The more I say it, the sooner I really believe it. Am I sad? Of course, I," She drug her teeth over her lips, "Point being, I'm pretty devastated. I'm going to be not alright for awhile. Still, I can't be like this...forever. It seems impossible, but we all have to do the impossible with the way the world is. I need to get on with my life, I need to be able to focus. I'm sure later I'll cry, like when we stop, but I seriously think it's going to be worse if I just curl up into my own, dark, dark thoughts." She pointed out, "If I'm driving, I can't do that."

"He still could be…" Sweet Pea didn't even finish his sentence, "Fine, if you're sure."

"I am." Betty said, balling up her emotions and shoving them deep, deep down, "So, where the hell are we?"

 _June 21th, 2018_

Betty looked between the two signs. She had the car paused, and her eyes flickered at the diverging road ways.

"Left for Arizona," Sweet Pea said absently, attempting to rangle a old-style map back into a neat square, "Earth to Betty?"

"I…" She frowned, shaking her head. They'd been on the road for four more days after she'd made a fool of herself and soaked through Sweet Pea's shirt, three more days after they'd found Jughead's hat. After she made peace that Jughead was gone, really truly gone. It still hurt to think about it, but Betty had time to think as she drove, and she worked through it all to...a form of acceptance. An acceptance that things had changed, if they hadn't changed before, and she couldn't continue on hoping life would just go back to normal one day. Even if the world righted itself, Jughead would still be dead. She also thought alot about it and yeah, Betty wanted to live. That meant navigating a life without Jughead, working toward that, whatever it meant.

Sweet Pea didn't think that Jughead was six feet under, but she just sort of felt it. When Jughead had been nearly killed at the end of the school year, Betty had known he was alive. She'd felt that he could die, and she also knew when he woke up. It was strange, but maybe when you love someone like that, it happens. Sweet Pea pointed out that FP still probably went to Arizona and he might have some other Serpents with him. It had come when Betty was driving, after he narrowly missed that damn deer. And, despite not wanting to talk about Jughead at all- and shutting Sweet Pea down whenever he asked- it was a solid point.

However, since that night, she'd done a lot of thinking.

About Jughead, specifically.

She at first had thought about how she wished she'd gone with him to see Archie at the prison, and how she could have been with him now, or, maybe she could have saved him. Maybe her being there would have been a butterfly effect and he woudn't have gotten bit or the bike wouldn't have been totaled at all. She wished that he was her traveling companion.

But it wasn't that, he wasn't with her. She was with Sweet Pea, and upon more thinking, she wondered what he would have done by himself? She didn't want to think about that, that he might be dead now.

After she forced herself to stop daydreaming scenarios that didn't happen, she forced herself to think about their travels. If they were just chasing a ghost, or if it was worth it to find FP. Toni hadn't even been sure that's where they went. It was a good guess, but so many things could have gone wrong between here and there. They might never make it down to Arizona, all because she was so determined to find someone who, in comparison, hadn't been in her life very long, or at this point, find his father.

If she was finding people based on length and even on importance, her mother and sister should be the top of her list, and then Archie (due to how long they'd been friends) and then Jughead and Co, at forth place, as much as she hated to admit it. She promised herself she was never going to be one of those weepy girls that thought her high school boyfriend was the end of it all, and that being without him wasn't worth living.

She liked to imagine years down the road, after high school and college, they would have gotten married. She had a feeling if this ending hadn't come, they absolutely would have.

But a different chapter had started.

She'd come to a conclusion almost firmly in her mind...she just wondered if Jughead would forgive her? If she could forgive herself?

"Betty?" Sweet Pea asked cautiously, "Whatcha thinking? Where's your head?"

"Maybe we shouldn't." Betty whispered.

"Go to Arizona?" Sweet Pea echoed.

Betty only shook her head.

"Well...it's up to you."

"No," Betty sighed, "Please, make a choice. I feel like it's all on me." She admitted, letting go of the wheel and putting it in park. She figured they'd be here awhile.

"Well, do you want to find Jughead?"

"He's gone, Sweets."

"Fine," Sweet Pea threw out, clearly not wanting to argue this particular subject right now, "Do you still want to find FP?"

"Sorta?" Betty wasn't entirely sure on that either.

"Then, to Arizona," Sweet Pea answered simply.

"But...but what if he isn't even there? What if we get there and he's not there? Do we keep chasing him? Would we even have a place to chase him? The USA is huge, Sweets."

"Well, if Jughead is alive, do you think he's looking for you?"

"I think he would. But, he's always loved Jellybean. So, I wouldn't get angry if he choose to see her first. She's only in middle school. She must be terrified." Betty said, "And as much as I want to know what happened, and as much as I like FP...I don't think I can go there, I'm not sure, but yeah. Not because it would hurt, but okay, we meet up with FP, and then what?"

"Will you sit there looking all sad for the rest of your life if we don't?" Sweet Pea asked and Betty kicked his shin, "Ow! I mean, seriously, though. You're usually so emotional when it comes to him, Jughead, I mean...you did a strip tease at a bar for chistsakes."

"Logic Betty has taken over, Logic Betty saw the signs," Betty nibbled at her nails, "I don't know, Sweet Pea. Is it selfish of me to stop looking after just a month? For FP, my mom, Polly, Archie..?"

"It's impressive, to be honest, we looked that long." Sweet Pea said, "Look, Betty. If we had any concrete lead, you'd be a jerk, yeah. But we don't. We have nothing. They could be in Canada for all we know. We don't. Do you think one day this will all be over?"

Betty gave a slow nod.

"Then, cool, we'll find out then. But, let's be smart. Make it to the day it ends, huh?" Sweet Pea said, "Arizona and further down we go is more populated. North is safer. We can always turn back around if you choose something else. But Betty, I don't mean to sound like an ass-,"

"You usually are," Betty rolled her eyes.

"Okay, I am. Your fam and Archie would want you making smart choices. Buuuuuut, speaking of Jughead…." He drew out his words, "He was just a boy you dated in highschool when you were sixteen. He wasn't you fiancee or husband and you hadn't even been together a year. You don't owe him more than you've already given, not to his father either. You don't have to follow him, or his ghost, what you believe. You're the sort of person that believes in fate and all that bulshitt stuff. What's the phrase? Something like if it's meant to happen, it will? You like fate and soulmates and stuff, don't you? If he's alive, which, he still could be- ah, nope, not a word- then you will find him again."

She looked up, meeting Sweet Pea's warm eyes. She knew that he was only trying to tell her what she was terrified to admit to herself; that while their relationship had the foundations to be lasting, at the point the world ended, it wasn't as life-or-death as she'd always felt it was. It was strikingly average, if she got rid of their sleuthing and just focused on the facts and numbers.

"If we're meant to be, one day, we'll find each other again, if by a slim chance you're right…" She agreed, "But right now…"

Betty took a deep breath, trying to let go of her guilt, and took a right turn.

 _July 12th, 2018_

All along the way, at all of their stops, Betty had acquired a green can of spray paint and charted her name all over walls and buildings for FP or her mom or Jughead (at Sweet Pea's utterly annoying insistence), in case anyone ever went looking for them. Jughead's name was so unusual that he would absolutely know if was the Betty he'd known, and so would anyone else that came across it.

 _Juggie, I was here, Betty._

This assuage her guilt and helped her move on, mile by mile. Sweet Pea would often add his own name in, in case Cheryl or Toni or Fangs ever picked up their tracks too. Hell, Betty admitted she'd even be thrilled to see Chuck again one day, as he'd more or less proved himself while they were at Lodge Lodge.

Leaving the markes let Betty feel as though she wasn't totally forgetting him, but she was also going to go with the smarter routes, so that one day when this was all done, she would still be alive. On the slim chance Betty's instincts, which were usually razor sharp, were wrong, she knew FP would keep Jughead alive, so would Jellybean. He'd be less likely to do something dangerous if he managed to find his sister, since he often felt responsible for her.

God, she hoped Jughead was still alive, despite the evidence against it.

She was more sure he wasn't than that he was, but Sweet Pea's unwavering belief, a belief that maybe Betty thought she should have, was casting some doubts. Stil, each day she woke up and checked her gut feeling and everyday it was the same. And, she'd whisper to the darkness of the forests that Jughead was dead. One day, maybe, it wouldn't feel like her heart was being shot through. She'd already talked herself into believing that Reggie or Josie was dead, working her way through friends and people she knew, so that when she heard, she wouldn't feel as hurt. And, if miraculously they were alive, she'd be all the glader. That was how she would cope. She did have the thought that she was systematically glueing herself more and more to Sweet Pea with each person she did this exercise with, however, she was also finding less and less reasons to be upset about this. Sweet Pea seemed equally okay with being around her.

After two months since he'd rescued her in Riverdale, they were working well as a team. He still annoyed her, but it made her laugh more than not, and she still just talked and talked when there was silence (but he also didn't seem to hate that), and they were mostly on the same page, so yeah, it worked.

She also began to see Sweet Pea less as a second to Jughead, but as a person himself, and not as a replacement for Jughead's companionship, but as an honest-to-god partner. The most important thing? He was alive and he was pretty determined to keep it that way.

She wondered if one day she would be able to work up to telling herself her family, her sister for example, was dead? Even at this moment, she was about 30% sure she was gone.

When she asked Sweet Pea he licked his finger, holding it to the wind, as though he could magically tell by the way the wind blowed. He dramatically opened his mouth before giving his reading.

"My gut is inconclusive." He finally answered. Betty wondered if he was going it to spare her feelings and his gut was telling him something else entirely. She wondered if his gut was telling him what he was telling her, when it came to Jughead.

Two months ago, Sweet Pea probably wouldn't have lied to her to make her feel better. This was food for thought when the through stumbled across her mind.

 _July 14th, 2018_

By month two (and a couple days), writing Jughead's name along with her own felt less like a trail for Jughead, but a trail for anyone and specifically not for Jughead. Especially, when Sweet Pea added his name.

Betty reckoned that there was only one group of kids in the world that had those two names, and certainly when put together, it was unmistakable. It was a beacon for anyone of her old life, may they be lucky enough to stumble across it.

Jughead became a trail marker more than it became a person she missed.

She did miss him, of course, but of late, only in the way she missed Veronica or Archie, at least the majority of the time. She figured she could spend the rest of her life pining over him or she could work on moving on.

Moving forward.

Her and Sweet Pea took things at a rather leisurely pace. They stopped in small towns, avoiding major hubs, and would ransack drug stores and groceries for supplies. Sweet Pea took the reigns on directions, and somewhere around Ohio they found a U-Haul and decided with their ever amassing things it might be best to switch the trucks out.

"They didn't leave the keys in here all handy like the Lodge's did." Sweet Pea said with a scowl after checking everywhere.

"Oh," Betty set down the box she was carting, wiping her forehead. The summer heat was suffocating and heavy, especially in a world where air conditioning didn't exist anymore, "Well, that's not a problem. I can hotwire it."

Sweet Pea squinted at her, "Since when?"

"Since always." Betty clapped her hands to rid the dust from her palms and shoved him into the passenger seat, going underneath the wheel, "I know a lot about cars. Used to work on them back when I was a kid. My dad said I would make a good mechanical engineer one day, since a mechanic wasn't good enough for my abilities. I hadn't thought of it much since high school. Guess now it doesn't matter…" She trailed off, pouting, reminiscing before shaking away her thoughts, "Well, bottom line is, I know cars."

"I knew there was a reason I kept ya around." Sweet Pea watched her, "A girl that knows her way around a car is sorta hot."

Betty sent him a half-glare through the gaps in the wheel, "Oh, and why do I keep you around? What's your special talents."

"Why, handsome looks and biting wit."

"Anything useful?" Betty asked without missing a second and Sweet Pea winced.

"Harsh, Cooper." He thought about it seriously for a second, "I mean, I guess I have a lot of random street smarts shit up here," He said, "You kinda learn it after living alone."

Betty inhaled, feeling bad. She knew that it was obvious a sore topic. He had managed to keep them alive. He also had a good sense of direction, something Betty was useless at. That's why she was the driver and he was the navigator.

"But it doesn't matter. We're sorta stuck together, huh?" He asked. Betty gave a small smile.

"Yeah. I don't see anyone else to trade you out with, so yep."

The car sparked to life, the motor rumbled. As they left the Lodge's van in the parking garage, Betty hardly looked back. This was much more efficient, space wise, and a bigger car could run down walkers easier. They were taking mostly back roads, so luckily they rarely ran into problems. That didn't mean that Betty thought they would never run into problems. She wasn't naive.

Case in point; when they stopped for the night, a walker stumbled upon their campsite where they were cooking a slab of hamburger meat that had managed to stay frozen up until now. Betty managed to dispatch the walker, but not after a minor struggle. She was heaving and catching her breath when Sweet Pea sighed, rubbing his face.

"That was the most awkward and gangly thing I've ever seen," He muttered, "New answer."

"To what?" Betty tried to wipe away the walker blood, recoiling at the smell.

"To your question. I have fighting skills. You have zero. You're going to get yourself killed if you continue on like that." Sweet Pea came across the way, picking Betty's machete out of her belt holder, placing it back in her hands, "We'll make a fighter of of you yet," He said.

So they practiced every night they stopped. Sweet Pea was a patient teacher, but then again, they had all the time in the world. Betty found she enjoyed learning these moves, these techniques. It gave the nights a purpose other than ransaking stores or playing games of I-Spy or card games.

Somewhere leaving Ohio, Betty turned to Sweet Pea.

"So, do we have an actual destination or are we gonna be driving forever?" She raised an eyebrow.

"Wisconsin."

"Seriously?" Betty tried not to wrinkle her nose, but couldn't help it, "What's there?"

"A good place to survive." Sweet Pea mumbled through a pen cap, using a highlighter to map out routes.

"But it's freezing there!"

"Yep," Sweet Pea agreed, "Walkers that are frozen in place can't very well kill us, can they?"

Betty hummed, considering his point. She did have to give him that one.

"Plus, Wisconsin is either farmlands or woods, and not much else. They have like one 'big' city, but otherwise it's all small areas and open space. We'll find a place to stop and stay for...well, maybe forever."

Something tied in her stomach when he said 'forever'. It was the first time either had admitted that maybe this would never end.

"How do you know so much about Wisconsin?" Betty narrowed her eyes suspiciously. Wisconsin was very far away from New York, "Movies?"

It's what Betty knew of the state. She could count on her fingers the facts she knew about it; the capital was Madison, The Green Bay Packers were from there, it had a lot of cheese and dairy, there were lots of cows, and...and...well, that was the extent of it.

"Back before my mom turned really bad, we went and visited a friend of hers out here for a summer. I think her friend was trying to send her to rehab, but clearly, it didn't stick. Anyway, I just remember playing all summer in farmlands and forests with no one around for miles. And land there is farmable. Grocery stores are going to run out or go bad eventually." Sweet Pea seemed to have this all figured out.

"When did you think this through, exactly?" Betty wondered out loud, though she supposed it didn't matter, "And were you going to ask me?"

"I guess if you really protested," Sweet Pea folded the map to the section of land they were driving on, "Do you?"

Betty just gave a shake of her head, since it wasn't the worst plan. It was a plan, and that in itself should be commendable, since Betty's plan could have gotten them both killed.

"And when did I think of it? A kid like me, a street kid, always has a plan of what to do if the world goes to shit. Where we'd escape to. We for sure have to avoid Chicago, so that'll take time, but I figure we're not that far off now. A week, maybe less. Then, once we hit Wisconsin, we keep going straight up. Nearly to Canada. Farther up the less people."

"And then?" Betty prompted him, very intrigued to hear how much he'd thought about this, how complete his thought process was.

Sweet Pea made a motion with his hands, "Find somewhere secluded where the nearest neighbor is miles away. Forest or farm, I guess it doesn't matter. Farms might be better for food purposes, but forests would be better for hiding. Maybe a combination of both areas. We set up. We figure shit out."

"Ah, you say that like it's easy," Betty laughed.

"Well, we've made it this far, huh?" Sweet Pea scratched his head, "You'll be going this way for a long time. Wake me up in about two hours," He said, curling up on the seat, "It will be good, just wait."

They stopped for the night at a little woodsy town, right at the edge. They used to stop and sleep in motels or hotels, but they found a large number or walkers still inhabited such places, and since they got the U-Haul they'd taken to setting up camp in the woods. There were less dangers that wanted to eat their faces there.

Usually.

Betty wasn't on watch but she heard it first. She snapped her eyes open, shaking the leaves off her and looking up at Sweet Pea with wild eyes. He cocked his head, then frowned.

"Get in the car, Betty," He whispered, but the ending of his command was drown out by a herd of walkers stumbling from the trees. Betty grabbed her machete, hands shaking, as she realized they were cutting off her and Sweet Pea's line to safety. There were far too many for them to take out.

And they just kept coming.

* * *

 **What Betty roughly says in French is 'over my dead body' and Sweet Pea basically replies, 'that can be arranged'.**

 **For those of who who read this on a03, I've added an 'Art of' Story as a sequel, which is baisically where I post moodboards and aesthetics for this story, so check that out! I also think I'm going to post the other universe story for this, the 100 fic, soon...maybe? Ah, we'll see XD**

 **Also, what are some other Sweet Pea/Betty stories you like to read? I've read the two by 'forasecondtherewe'vewon' (and, if you haven't read those, go and read those!) but I'm looking for some other SweetBetts recs! I'll it on literally anywhere; , a03, tumblr, wattpad...throw them at me!**

 **I'm thinking of writing another SweetBetts story to post soon too, a AU of S1 where everyone is supernatural (Betty is a witch, Serpents are werewolves, and ect) and I'm either going to write it as Jeronia or as asexual!Jughead. What would you guys rather see? Do you even want to see this? Lemme know.**

 **Also, I just wanted to say (I'm not sure if I have) that if you review 10 chapters of my stories, you get a drabble written by me, so you can ask for more SweetBetts, or any couple you want! So, start reviewing? :)**

 **Please oh please make my day, leave a review.**


	6. Track Five: The Apocalypse Song

**Song for this chapter is The Apocalyptic Song.**

 **Thank you so much to the reviewers! Now we seem to be getting somewhere :)**

* * *

 _July 14th, 2018_

"Run!" Sweet Pea yelled, smacking Betty's arm as he passed, doing away with whispering now that they were here. Betty didn't need to be told twice.

Together, the pair flashed through the forest, jumping over rocks and trees and always keeping their weapons forward, clenched.

A walker came out of nowhere, it's gaunt face and sunken eyes reflecting in the light of the moon. Betty skidded to the left, stumbling down a ravine and into a creek, falling hard face-first. Her machete slipped out of her fingers, washed away by the current.

Betty's head throbbed. She spat out rocks, gravel, and blood, running her tongue over her teeth to make sure none had been knocked out. As she raised her face from the water, sputtering out through her nose, she attempted to blink away the droplets that got into her eyes.

She pulled a face, moaning. She wiped at her eyes, but they stung and her head was still really reeling. In a haze, she muggily wondered if she had a concussion. She touched her hairline, running her fingers cautiously down, until she felt something sticky and warm.

It wasn't water in her eyes, but blood. She felt along where her head had been gashed open, trying to wipe away gritty sand and mud. It wasn't a huge cut, but she knew head wounds bleed like nothing else, and it was still nothing good.

At least, she thought, no walkers had followed her yet.

She shot up straight. Walkers, Sweet Pea, running. Her thoughts were all jumbled and she was down the weapon she was most comfortable with.

A scream echoed throughout the forest, sending birds flapping away. Then, she heard gunshots.

"Sweet Pea," Betty whispered, shoving herself up the slippery river banks, grasping sharp rocks and shoving herself forward.

She thrashed through the undergrowth, limbs flailing as her feet carried her toward where the sound had come from. Her fingers were shaking so hard they were almost vibrating as she fished out her secondary knife from her boot, trying to vanish away the fuzzy black on the edge of her vision.

Sweet Pea was on the ground, aiming at walkers that continued to advance upon him. Betty was about to scream for him to get up off the fucking ground and move, for god's sake, until she saw what had caused him to yell out.

A bear trap, tightly sealed around his leg.

"Betty, get out of here, there's too many," Sweet Pea said, "I won't be able to get this off."

"What?" Betty shook her head, "No, no way." She said.

Sweet Pea looked up, seeing her face, "Betty, you're bleeding. Please, just leave me. We can't win." He sounded defeated, but also utterly terrified. She'd never heard him sound like that. He sounded like a highschooler, like a child.

"You're still shooting, so you still believe there's a chance," Betty argued back, sinking the hilt of her knife into a walker, kicking it away.

"Cooper! You'll get yourself killed. Kill me now, okay?"

"No serpents left behind." Betty reminded him, spinning around to shove away to more. She wasn't even going to address his last comment, "Right?"

"Betty, I swear to god-,"

"No! You don't get to tell me to just leave you. If you go down, we both do. I'm not leaving. Got it?" She spat out, "Now, keep aiming and shooting."

It did seem impossible. In the depths of Betty's heart, she realized this could be the end. If she ran away now, yes, she probably could survive. She could move on. Keep going.

That simply wasn't an option for her, however. She could never live with herself if she left Sweet Pea to die.

She saw Sweet Pea glare hard at her, but continue to fend them off. Betty noticed him, in between, trying to work the trap out of the soil. If he couldn't get it off now, maybe they could take it with them?

Betty reached in her back pocket, clenching a lighter tightly in her fists. She'd taken to never going anywhere without one, since fire was of utmost importance in a lot of ways now. She recalled Sweet Pea saying that walkers weren't killed by just flames, however, it might buy them time.

As soon as she saw Sweet Pea get the device out of the ground, she lit up the dry grass around them.

"Stand, c'mon, c'mon," Betty said, throwing his arms over her shoulder and helping him up, "I know it hurts, Sweets, but we have to go."

"You're just like fucking Jughead…" Sweet Pea's speech was beginning to sound slurred, "Always gotta be a hero."

Betty navigated them through a thorn patch, sucking in through her teeth as the thorns riddled her skin, leaving blood trailing behind them. She saw a couple walkers that had gotten past the fire becoming tangled in the brush, just as she'd hoped.

By the time they broke into the town's edge, Sweet Pea was more or less dragging himself. He was still conscious, but barely.

Betty helped him through the streets, leaning over and taking out one of his guns from his pockets and shooting the two walkers that stood in the way between her and the destination; a medical center. She was glad Sweet Pea insisted on canvassing a town before they stopped off for the night.

"Vodka...pour it on the ground, light it up…" Sweet Pea mumbled faintly, his shaking fingers handing her a flask that he kept on him. Betty didn't question, but did as he asked. She took a shot for herself for good measure before hand, though, to calm her nerves. She noticed that two walkers off to the side that had heard the shots were now going toward the new fire instead of them.

"Sweets?" Betty whispered, watching his head slump, "Oh, no. You're not going to fucking die on me. C'mon, just work with me a little farther," She said, lightly slapping his cheeks. When that didn't work, Betty took a breathe in and slapped his face as hard as he could. He blinked awake, though there was a glaze over his eyes. She couldn't imagine the immense pain he was in right now.

Once inside, Betty barricaded the doors, and helped Sweet Pea onto a hospital bed. It was a small care center, so Betty was able to do a sweep of it in less than ten minutes, pleased to see there was only one walker to knife down.

She returned to Sweet Pea, and saw that he'd taken his jacket off. She'd hadn't seen him without it on since the start of the apocalypse, even in the sweltering heat of this summer.

"I'm so warm…Betty?" Sweet Pea questioned.

"Okay, okay." Betty sucked in hard. She'd helped her mom clean up a guy from their ground. She'd watched murders happen. She could certainly manage Sweet Pea's leg, although it was more or less just a grotesque mess of muscle and sinews right now. The device was rusted, which told Betty it had likely been put out before or very close to the beginning of the apocalypse, but had never been retrieved. She was surprised a walker hadn't stumbled into it already.

However, it wasn't the time to count her very unlucky stars. She first hooked Sweet Pea up to a IV bag of painkillers.

"You ever done this before?" Sweet Pea asked as she readied a needle.

"No. But I've given blood loads of times and I always watch." Betty replied, "Plus, we don't have many other choices." She said, "And I broke my leg when I was fourteen, this is what they gave me, and I'm giving you how much they gave me, to be safe. We'll see." She said uneasily. She didn't completely trust herself, but as she reminded herself, there wasn't another option here.

"Do you by chance know how to open a bear trap?" Betty asked, leaning in close to Sweet Pea. He looked up, his fingers trailing over her cheek.

"You're head is bleeding," He said, frowning, "You should take care of that first."  
"I'm the one standing here talking, you might lose a leg," Betty swallowed hard, "Sweet Pea, focus. God, I wish internet was still a thing."

"You think there's a wiki-how on getting a bear trap of a leg?" Sweet Pea asked, which told Betty he wasn't too far gone, he was with it enough to make jokes.

"Sweet Pea," Betty grabbed his cheeks in her hands, "I can't help you if you don't help me."

"You'll need a c-clamp to open it. You're not strong enough by yourself. It's meant to hold bears." He said. Betty nodded, running away and tearing through the storage cabinet. She managed to find one, and together they managed to pry it off. Betty threw it on the ground, kicking it far away.

Sweet Pea flopped on the pillow, "Thank god, the meds are kicking in…" He gave a low moan of pleasure, "How's it look, Doc?"

"I'm not a doctor," Betty was quick to remind him, "Ahh, well, bad."

Sweet Pea raised his head, looking at his leg, "Yuck." He looked a little green. Seeing your leg torn open would do that to someone. She ran a finger along his leg, where there was still flesh.

"I think it's broken."

"Lucky me," Sweet Pea sighed. He was pretty silent as she worked her best to fix his leg. It was deep enough and wide enough that she was sure it wouldn't close on it's own.

She wasn't able to find thread for sutures, but she did find a fancy and medical grade looking staple gun.

Sweet Pea's face paled when he saw it, but he gave a firm nod, "Do what you gotta do, Cooper." He agreed to it when Betty held it up with in question. She found a wooden stick of some sort and gave it to him to bite on. She found some numbing gel, but doubted it would do much. She slathered it on for good measure anyway.

The first staple, he cried out around the stick, forehead sweating. The second one, he reached for Betty's free hand, gripping it. Betty felt like he was breaking her fingers when she put the third one in. By the fourth, he'd passed out.

She washed up the leg after, wrapping it in fluffy gauze and letting him stay out.

She did her own medicinal routine in his room, in a grimy mirror. She saw that her hair was crispy and stained a dark brown from Betty running her bloody hands over her blonde hair. She rinsed out the wound, wincing and jumping in her seat as she did. She refused to take any medication, since one of them had to be alert. It wasn't going to be Sweet Pea right now.

It wasn't as bad as his, or in need of stitches at all. She found some of the sticky tape things to close it together, and then applied a lot of antiseptic creams, numbing gel, and other topical things over it, before patting a gauze bandage on, and then taped around the edges for good measure. Her cheeks and lips and other bare skin was cut everywhere from the forest, but it wasn't anything that needed attending to.

Sweet Pea was torn up from the forest too, but he must have hit his face when he fell. Betty had hit her forehead, but Sweet Pea must have landed on his nose, because it was a little crooked and caky blood was dried all down his chin. His lip was also split open. To be honest, there was just blood everywhere on him.

Betty's clothes were full of both of their blood, so she trashed it and found a pair of scrubs around, which would keep her clothed until they could return to the U-Haul.

"Betty," Sweet Pea's cracked voice startled her. She turned to see him looking down his newly bandaged and splinted leg.

"Hey, Sweet Pea." She was at his side instantly.

"You didn't leave me…" He frowned, staring hard at her.

"No, of course I didn't," Betty felt offended he would have thought she was going to, "I wouldn't."

Sweet Pea nodded, rubbing his forehead and swallowing hard. He didn't look like he was in pain, and his grimace was more due to the situation, as compared to actual feelings. Betty pulled up a chair, resting her chin on the mattress. God, she was exhausted. She felt Sweet Pea's fingers lifting her chin to look at her face, and his long sigh.

"You should just say thank you," Betty mumbled, trying to fight off sleep. Her eyes drooped. She was half-joking, but half-serious.

"Thank you." His voice was quiet and still sounded surprised.

"I'm here to stay. I told you, I'm not leaving you." Betty wondered, if someone were to psychoanalyze it, Sweet Pea had a fear of abandonment. His father, his mother, all the Serpents...It sorta made her feel utterly sad, especially because Sweet Pea was the type of person that deserved someone caring about him. She did. Obviously, because one didn't do all that to people they hated or only knew by acquaintance.

"I'm not used to people looking out for me, risking their lives. People die around me, but now," He paused, as though struggling to find the proper words, "first Jughead walked into death for the serpents and you risked your life for me now." He sounded amazed, "I'm not...worth that."

Betty rolled her cheek near him, ready to lay into him, because that was just the most ridiculous thing she'd ever heard, "Sweet Pea-,"

"Jordan."

"Hmm?" Betty frowned, opening one eye, "No, it's Betty." Oh crap, was he hallucinating now? Crazy? Did he have amnesia? Betty was unprepared for any of those outcomes.

"No, no…" He did crack a smile, but it was replaced by a vulnerability she hadn't yet seen on his face, "It's, uh, my real name. Jordan Connor Peabody."

"Peabody?" Betty shot up, "As in-,"

"Yeah." Sweet Pea grimaced, "Second cousins. You can get why I want to distance myself."

"Jordan," Betty rolled the name over her tongue. She watched his eyes flicker with, well something, when she said his name, but she couldn't place it. She probably could have if she wasn't dizzy with pain, since she knew she'd seen that look on Jughead before, "Why now?"

"Jughead did that for the serpents as a whole. You came back for _me_. No one's ever been so…"

"Loyal? Stupid?" She supplied, smiling gently, slipping her fingers back into his, squeezing it.

"Yeah, something like that," He agreed.

"Sweets, you've saved me as many times as I've saved you." She reminded him, "And you totally deserve people looking out for you. We have each other's backs now, don't we?"

"Yeah, 'course." Sweet Pea mumbled. He looked at their intertwined fingers, but didn't slip his away. In fact, if anything, he held on tighter.

"What name do you prefer?" Betty asked after a moment.

Sweet Pea grinned, "Whatever you want to call me, Cooper."

 _July 17th, 2018_

She ended up continuing to call him Sweet Pea or just Sweets, but that's not to say that she wasn't always thinking his true name. It rattled around in her brain, and she found herself directly after narrating his actions in her head, trying out that name, like it was a shiny new toy.

 _Jordan's been sleeping a lot._

 _Jordan is trying to wash the blood out of his jacket._

 _Jordan is craving twinkies; but aren't we all? Broke open the vending machine...who knows how good it is...am I willing to risk it?_

It gave her a little thrill to use it, knowing that she was one of the few people in the world that knew his true identity. Sweet Pea informed her even Jughead never got that far, and Fangs probably would have soon, but things had just happened.

He didn't make a deal out of it, so neither did Betty.

They spent three days in the clinic. Betty scoured it for useful medical grade supplies they hadn't found in abandoned CVS stores or Walgreens on their way through the states. She also found a couple medical textbooks.

While she was under no illusion that this would be a comprehensive accumulation of any medical problem she'd need to know, the truth of it was that she had no knowledge, so anything would be better than nothing. The mantel lay on Betty, since Sweets spent most of his time sleeping off his pain and recuperating. Betty managed to get the old coffee machine working in the breakroom and went to work, trying to commit each page to memory. She would be taking the most useful with her, but reading at least gave her something to do, in between worrying over Sweet Pea. It also took her mind off it all; this was the first long 'down town' they'd had since the Lodge Lodge. There was much to think about, too many thoughts, if she were to let her mind freely wander. To struggle through complicated medical text books where she had to look up a definition every twelve words was much preferred, because it forced her to use all of her mind power.

The clinic was unbearably hot. She had taken off her scrubs top and was just in a tank, using a small flicking light to guide her vision on the pages, and she was about six coffee cups in. She found coffee helped her headache, since she refused to take anything stronger than Advil.

She rolled her shoulder, wincing. Absently, she massaged the muscle with a half-hearted touch.

"Is your shoulder good?" Sweet Pea's voice startled her. She looked up to see him sitting up on the bed.

"Ah, pretty fine. I just think I yanked it weird when I was fighting," She said. She was confident it wasn't broken or popped out of place, but that didn't mean it didn't throb and whine whenever she moved it to suddenly. In comparison to Sweet Pea's leg, it wasn't worth complaining over. Sweet Pea yawned, so Betty went back to reading, as not to bother him if he were to fall back asleep.

She heard the bed shift and before she could tell him to get back into bed, he'd grabbed the back of her office chair and had wheeled her to the side of his bed.

"Hop on," He said, patting the space between his legs, "Let me rub it."

"There's no need," Betty started scooting her chair back with her feet, until Sweet Pea leaned over and began working his calloused hands over the skin. A moan escaped her lips, catching her off guard. She bit her lip, before clambering onto the bed, her back against his chest.

He leaned her forward, carefully tucking her hair in front of her, before he began massaging the whole area, but more or less concentrated around the shoulder. His fingers were surprisingly gentle and the whole experience just melted Betty like butter.

"Where in god's name did you learn this?" Betty asked, trying to speak normally. Her voice was almost sinful the first time she'd attempted to talk.

"Toni likes backrubs. She was adamant I was going to learn how to give a good one." Sweet Pea replied, his own voice very casual. The fact that this was warming Betty so much while Sweet Pea seemed unaffected made her blush. She was glad her face was away from his.

"You need to rest. No sense of both of us tiring out and dying in a clinic. That would be irony."

Sweet Pea informed her.

"Both of us?" Betty turned her head just to peek over her shoulder, "You're not dying, Sweets."

"Well, if you die, I probably will too," Sweet Pea's thumbs lavished over her skin, "So, don't. I'm sorta helpless right now." He said.

"Yeah. Not planning on it."

"Then, if that's the case, you need to rest a bit. Seriously."

Betty really wanted to protest, but her head lolled against his chest, and she's asleep before the words even make it out.

When she awakens, she's laying on her side on the hospital bed. She frantically spins around, searching for the patient; although logically, how far can a half-cripple really get? Her heart is racing, still, but when she catches sight of him it still hasn't quieted.

She breathes softly for just a second. Sweet Pea has taken her office chair and is engrossed in one of the medical textbooks. He has a piece of licorice in his mouth, hanging out- almost like a cigarette- and his thumb rubs over his chin.

"You know, you don't have to read that," Betty whispers, breaking the silence in the hopes that her body calms down. It still hasn't, "You could be doing other things with your time. I'm reading through them all."

"Well, it doesn't make a huge amount of sense that the medical knowledge should just be in one person. Besides, I don't dislike reading, I just didn't have time." He admits, his fingers tapping the pages, "But, uh, do you get even like half of this?" The embarrassment is clear on his face.

Betty winces, "Not really." There's a lot of big words and phrases that, if she'd gone to medical school, she's sure she'd know more.

Sweet Pea clicks his tongue; "We should try to hit up a Barnes and Noble or something then. Get a 'Medical Knowledge for Dummies' book. Hell, we should take all of the 'for Dummies' books, cuz we both have to be everything all at once." He is still trying to read the textbook, "You think it might be okay for me to have coffee, Doc?" He's half-grinning at her, knowing full well her knowledge of medical things is only slightly elevated to hers, and that's mostly because she's spent two and a half days on this book, while he's spent maybe two hours.

Betty gives a half-shrug and that's good enough for Sweet Pea. He lets the book 'thump' softly on the tiled floor, grabbing the crutches Betty put next to his bed, and hobbles away.

If he's this active, they should leave soon, Betty thinks. No use in staying in this place when there's still so much longer to go. Plus, a hospital is too big to manage- even a clinic. If a herd ever got in...she sighs hard.

When Sweet Pea returns and sees Betty gathering things into piles, he understands. He downs the coffee in a single chug and starts getting things from other rooms, readying their leaving.

Betty slips out silently while he's gone, scribbling a note on a post it.

She might have made it to her destination, if something in the front of the clinic didn't stop her.

Betty is engrossed in a body of a dead walker when Sweet Pea stumbles out of the clinic, eyes wild.

"What the hell, Cooper? Do you really think you can just-woah." Betty glances up. He might think she's stopped because there's a child laying on the ground, hardly more than eight, dead and mostly nude. It's sad, Betty agrees, but that's not what caused concern. It's that this kid's skin is flawless.

Far too flawless to have been turned into a walker.

"What are you doing?" Sweet Pea stands above Betty, frowning as Betty begins to look over the body. His anger, at the moment, has vanished.

Betty does not answer. She meticulously combs through the entire, tiny and frail body fo the girl before she answers, placing her hands in the hollows of her eyes.

"Sweets," She asks, voice quivering, "Can you recall ever seeing a dead person laying on the ground? Someone that's just dead, not also a walker?"

Sweet Pea's eyebrows knit. He frowns, opening his mouth, but then snaps it closed again. Betty can tell he's coming to the same conclusion she is; they haven't seen that.

"It's not like I was looking closely at dead bodies past Riverdale," Sweet Pea finally says, but it sounds like a weak excuse.

Betty sets the girl back on the ground, closing the child's eyes with two fingers. There's a sound to the left; Sweet Pea's head swivels left and then right, before he grabs Betty's arm and hauls her back inside.

Once safely to the doors, and out of sight of the glass, Sweet Pea lets go of her arm. It's a little sore, from being manhandled up the stairs.

He's fuming, but as he paces, Betty can almost see him trying to decide which topic to tackle first.

"We have two things to talk about," He manages to snap. If Betty has grown to know Sweet Pea at all during this time, he'll go with the note she left first. He's hot-headed, easy to anger, and the sort of person that likes confrontations. She's preparing herself for it, going through the answer she'll give him in her head.

"What do you think your question means?" He asks.

"Well, I just thought that while you-," Betty launches into her reasoning for leaving him before she's really registered what he said. When she does, she's very surprised. His tone was level and his face was worried. He'd gone with the other question first.

The one about the girl.

Betty takes a moment to reorient herself, biting her lip.

"There was no bite mark anywhere. I'm not a doctor, we've established this, but do you know how I think she died? Starvation. If that's true, and if we've never just seen a dead and non-walker body lying about, you know what that means?" She asked quietly.

"I don't want to," Sweet Pea's shoulders slump. She thinks he must have came realization that she did.

"You die and come back as a walker, no matter how you died. You don't need to get bit, but getting bit for sure kills you." Betty spoke it outloud, just so that she was sure Sweet Pea was on the same page as her. From the way his whole body flinched, he was.

"Guess it's a long time coming," Sweet Pea rubbed his arms, trying to pat down the goosebumps, "Maybe it was a disease or some lab made shit. I mean, there have been people trying to prepare for the next black plague forever. Who's to say it's not this?"

The question hung between them. Betty only could swallow.

"Or, the next 'comet'." He pointed out, "Because, let's be honest, I'm seriously concerned about this being the end of the human race as we know it."

"We're fucked." Betty whispered.

Sweet Pea looked uncomfortable. She thought he'd be the first to agree, however, her despair made him look unsure.

"Well, we sure as hell are if you just do whatever you damn please." He threw something at her, the tone of his voice shifting immediately. She picked up a tiny, fluorescent, balled note from the ground.

Ah. They were coming to this fight.

She re-reads her note she'd left for him; _getting the car. Stay here. I'll be back soon._

"I wasn't doing 'wahtever I dam pleased'," Betty locked her jaw, "I was making the logical decision."

"What part of the idea that we don't leave each other do you not get?" Sweet Pea demanded, "If you were ever going to leave me behind, back in the woods would have been-,"

"I was getting the van!" Betty had no qualms pushing back against his anger, "It's not that far away! We didn't get very far from the forest with that leg of yours! Plus, it makes sense. You get the shit. I get the car. You hop in, we're gone."

"But what if you never came back?" Sweet Pea asked.

"I wasn't just going to drive off into the sunset and leave you, Sweets, god!"

"What if it wasn't your choice?" Sweet Pea's voice broke a little, "What if you got killed and I was waiting for you back here?"

Betty lifted her shirt, "I'm well stocked." She said, showing her replacement knife and the gun, both tucked into the waistband of her jeans.

"You both know there's a thousand things that could go wrong." Sweet Pea said in a dark tone. Betty crossed her arms.

"So, what, we're both going to hobble all the way to the car, come back- leave this stuff unattended- and then take all this extra time, when I could be back within like ten minutes?" She asked.

"If that's what sticking together means, yeah."

Betty was so infuriated with his complete lack of logic that she had to hold in tears. She wasn't sure why this of all things was getting to her. Maybe it was because he was so afraid of her dying without him. Maybe it was the look on his face. Maybe it was her own guilt for leaving Jughead and not continuing to look for him, even if he was dead. The guilt for not looking for him before, when the world ended at the start.

"Betty?" Sweet Pea asked.

"Gosh," She pinched the bridge of her nose, trying to keep her eyes dry, "Fine. Okay. Together." She opened one eye, trying to shake away her emotions, "If I didn't know better, I'd say you liked me, the way you're obsessed with me."

It was a joke, but a look flashed across Sweet Pea's face, but it was gone within a moment. It was so fast that Betty convinced herself later she merely imagined it, "Naw, Cooper, I just like to annoy you. That's all."

* * *

 **RIVERDALE COMES BACK TOMORROW? What are y'all most excited for? For me, to see my baby Sweet Pea :)**

 **Someone on tumblr also thought last chapter was the end! I'm happy to tell you that I have plans for this fic to be at least 20ish chapters, so we're not quite done yet ;)**

 **So, when I was writing this originally, I didn't know much about the actor of Sweet Pea. Then I started following him on Insta, and I wanted to give him a totally different name, but apart from Sweet Pea, the only thing I can imagine him is as Jordan. So, he's Jordan here too. As for his lastname, it's never been said, but there was a theory going around awhile with people thinking he was the son of Penny and FP. It's interesting, but it's not what I'm using, but I did like the Penny PEAbody/Sweet PEA connection, so I sorta used it here.**

 **In the meantime, I've also begun another Riverdale fic! If you like this one, I highly encourage you to go check it out. It's called 'Blood of My Blood, Flesh of My Flesh' and is a supernatural!AU that features Betty as a witch, Veronica as a vampire, and the Serpent Gang as a werewolf pack. It starts in season 1 and is a redo of the whole series if these paranormal elements were in it. It's Sweet Pea and Betty Cooper centric, so I imagine you guys would like it. It will go through, at least, all the canon ships on the show (so, if you're a bughead fan, it will have that) but I'm not actually sure what my endgame couples will be yet XD Sweet Pea and Betty meet early on, and I have to keep dialing them back so it's not too couply on their end! At most, they for sure will get together sometime during the fic. I would love to see some of you from here over on that fic too! It only has the preface, but I should be updating a new chapter for it tonight as well.**

 **Enjoy ;)**


	7. Track Six: Radioactive

**A little later than usual, but the interest for this story seems to have really picked up in between my last updates! I'm pleased to see everyone else is starting to love this story as much as I so love writing it :) Plus, we all need more Sweet Pea specifically in our lives...**

 **Although, on this site, I only had one review. But thank you so much more to that one person who really made my day, Serpent818!**

 **Serpent818: You are just too kind! Your review had me just smiling so much! Thank you! (And, if you like Sweet Pea as a character, I'd suggest to go check out my other Riverdale story where Sweet Pea's POV is actually the main POV!) I'm also glad you decided to take a chance on this, even if it's not your usual cup of tea! And please oh please give me that list of songs! My tastes are actually a little hard-core, so I might just end up loving them! Plus, I'm always looking for new songs to add to Sweet Pea's 'playlist'. In all, thanks for being an awesome-sauce person and reviewing.**

 **Song for this chapter is 'Radioactive' by Imagine Dragons!**

* * *

 _July 17th, 2018_

They drove out of that town pretty damn fast. Sweet Pea took up his usual passenger seat, though he treated it like it was a throne from the way he splayed so casually on it. It was almost sinful. He was turning the paper map around, the sound of the crinkling paper giving Betty some much needed white noise in the back of her head.

"I'm not an invalid." They hadn't spoken except for Sweet Pea to say 'left' or 'right' in a toneless drone. She couldn't tell he was still upset.

"Huh? No, of course not." She murmured, frowning.

"Coulda fooled me, the way you were just going to leave me there." He was just hardly holding in his rage. Betty could see it smoldering under the surface.

"I've been over this-,"

"I did just fine on my own with more shit to deal with, you think a leg is going to stop me?" He asked, heaving a bit, out of breath although he was sitting and immobile. It clued Betty in how furious he was with her. While Betty would usually blister at his tone, now, she just felt guilty.

"Sweets, I don't think I needed to say it, but I'd be dead without you." Betty knew that she'd made a mistake. Even if she thought it was one that was logical, she understood now that it was wrong of her.

"You coulda been dead again if you left too," Sweet Pea hissed, "Fucking christ, Betts."

"And you would have survived alone again," She said with certainty, but the idea seemed to almost disgust Sweet Pea.

"But I-," He sharply closed his mouth, shaking his head, "Whatever. Can we just agree that this isn't going to happen again? Not without, I dunno, a freaking emergency?"

"Leave each other?" Betty asked.

"Yeah. Leave."

In that one word, she realized the depths of the issue. Mother issues, daddy issues...all the issues everywhere. It was a can of worms she still wasn't quite ready to deal with, so she just nodded.

"I won't."

Something in her voice must have been sincere, because Sweet Pea relaxed, finally allowing the topic to drop. Betty nearly breathed a sigh of relief. It made her on edge to fight with Sweet Pea, at least, about real things. Fighting with him over which flavor of Doritos was better (Cool Ranch, obviously, there was no contest) was almost like, well, flirting. It wouldn't matter tomorrow. It was a way to destress and just argue.

She glanced at the steering wheel making a disgusted noise when she saw the ragged state of her nails; the color nearly all chipped off except two or three places, most of them uneven, and one of them newly sore. She ran her finger of the place where it was jagged, deep in thought. It must have happened in the last couple hours, but Betty only just noticed.

"What?" Sweet Pea snorted, "Break a nail while loading the boxes?"

"Yeah, actually." She realized how silly it sounded, how very trivial to be caring about the state of her nails at the end of the world. She realizes she should have just left it off, or lied to Sweet Pea, before she give him ammunition to tease her with. But, there's not much else to do here- they exhausted the game of I Spy a long time ago- so she just keeps talking. She always hopes the more she talks, the more it encourages him to talk. Sometimes it works, sometimes it doesn't.

"I mean, it's not the nails I'm sad about." She begins again, taking one hand off the wheel to show Sweet Pea, "It's well, I'd really never had my nails done professionally before. Then Veronica showed up and she took one look at them the first day we were friends and said 'This needs major work' and called a nail person up to her room that same day. And since then, since I've been her friend- was- I'd get my nails done with her every week. It made me feel a little human, it made me feel like even something as insignificant as my nails were a part of me that I deserved to take care of. That I should take care of myself. I think Veronica knew, though."

"Knew what?" Sweet Pea frowned, realizing her tone had taken a more somber note.

"It wasn't about my nails, not really. She used to insist every week, and sometimes I'd wriggle my way out of it. It was easier to…" She couldn't form the words, she couldn't admit it out loud, "To do that." She held her palm fully up, trying to gauge his reaction, "I haven't done it since the start of this. Who would knew a walker apocalypse would make me less anxious than real life?"

She should have expected Sweet Pea reaching out for her hand, but his touch surprised her all the same. Maybe what was so surprising was the absolute reverence in which he touched her hand, as though she'd offered him the chalice of immortality. She got away with not looking at him by reminding herself she had to watch the road, she was still driving.

The pads of his thumbs laved over the row of crescent-shaped scars, tracing them carefully.

"She was a good friend like that," Betty couldn't help but get choked up. She hadn't ever admitted out loud what Veronica had done for her. If Veronica had asked her outright, or asked if maybe Betty would have wanted to see a therapist, Betty may have denied it or gotten defensive. Although, after her dad, seeing a therapist had been one of the first things Betty had considered...that was useless now, huh, since there probably weren't many of those around anymore.

Anyway, it had been a small gesture that Betty wished she'd thanked Veronica for, truly. Not just thanked her for bringing in Tecia every week to buff her nails and let her pick a pretty top coat, but for being Veronica and finding another way around the problem.

She let out a half-sob, sucking it back, "God, I just really miss her. Before Veronica, I never really had good friends, well...friends that were girls." She admitted, thinking of Archie and Kevin. Heck, even technically Jughead, although until she'd started dating him, he was more of Archie's friend than hers.

"I miss my friends too," Sweet Pea still hadn't let go of her hand. He looked down, realizing he'd held onto far longer than either of them had thought it would go on, and dropped it. He put his own hands in his lap, like for a second he didn't know what to do with them.

"Tell me about them," Betty asked, using the hand he let go of to wipe her cheeks, finding stability to her tone once again, "Your friends. Serpents. Because, well...I don't know a ton about the ones your age." She was a bit ashamed to admit that, however, it was true. She had always assumed once she was more 'one of them' it would happen.

"Like what?"

"Like…" Betty had a thousand questions, "Do you get a nickname when you all join? Does everyone have one?" She asked, "I mean, between you...Jughead, Toni, Fangs, FP, Tallboy...they're all nicknames." She pointed out.

Sweet Pea gave a short bark of laughter, "Ah, no. Most of us come prepackaged with a totally awesome and marketable nickname."

Betty couldn't help but chuckle, "You have to admit, a lot of you have them."

"We're the kind of people that would." He said in a more serious voice, "Think about it. A nickname is like a...a second layer of protection. Like our jackets. For me, you don't know my real name until I want you to. Others are like that."

"How did you get your nickname, then, if it's not given to you in some weird cultish ritual? Or, is that a level I haven't unlocked?" She asked. Sweet Pea didn't answer and she feared she'd hit a button or two she wasn't supposed to. When she looked up, however, Sweet Pea was bright red.

"No, I mean, if you know my real name-,"

"Jordan," Betty said it again, like Sweet Pea wouldn't have recalled telling her. If possible, his face got redder.

"Yeah, right, that one, you can know. It's just…" He winced, "When I was really tiny, before mom went crazy and stuff, my grandpa would come around- my dad's dad- and he would watch me. He called me Sweet _Pea_ firstly 'cuz of my last name, but from the stories, I was apparently just this cute little kid that always helped him around and I had 'the cutest and roudest face out there'...that's what my grandpa said. He died not long before my mom, so," Sweet Pea threw up his hands, "It stuck. Whatever. I'm not really cute anymore, but I liked my grandpa."

"Aww!" Betty cooed, which just made Sweet Pea look more uncomfortable as he hid behind a hand, "Well, I still think you're cute." She said, without really meaning to at all. As soon as the words left her mouth, she coughed. If she'd said it with a smirk, she could have played it off as just being a nice friend, or something, but it was the way she'd said it that made her feel really stupid. It was that she'd said it as someone that saw 'cute' as a synonym for 'good looking'. Sweet Pea looked up, his face turning a normal shade again.

"Cute? That all? Not handsome? Sexy? Undeniable?" He said, leaning over the median.

"Gettout." Betty shoved him back, "I give you a compliment, you take a mile," She rolled her eyes, "What about Fangs? He's like the nicest guy I've ever met."

"True." Sweet Pea bobbed his head, "When we were like freshman, he'd just joined up and also wanted a badass nickname. Someone deadpanned suggested Fangs- and lemme tell you, if you think he's nice now, you should have seen him two years ago- and Fangs just took to it. Toni tried to convince him out of it for weeks. Then, it was sort of a joke. The Horrifying Fangs who volunteered at the animal shelter nursing bunnies or who walks old ladies to their cars in winter."

Betty let Sweet pea talk about Fangs for a second. Fangs who was nearly killed over something stupid. Not that cheating was stupid, but that the whole situation of their town was stupid and someone shouldn't have shot a seventeen for that anyway.

"Fangs was always too soft for this world," Sweet Pea crunched his body between the dashboard and the seat, curling into himself. He said his words like it was a eulogy. Betty didn't say anything, but to Sweets, it was one. It was admitting out loud that Fangs was most likely dead and probably had been this whole time.

"Who else?" Betty asked after a moment, "Who are the other Serpents that are our age?"

She half expected Sweet Pea to have walled himself up, however, Sweet Pea blinked at her.

"Well," He said, "I guess I'll start with Lann…"

That's how they spent the whole rest of that day driving. It was the most Betty had ever heard Sweet Pea talk. Talk about things that mattered, anyway, since Sweet Pea usually blabbered just to bug the hell out of Betty. He was genuine and excited to talk about his chosen family, Betty realized.

She had also expected that Sweet Pea would give a one sentence summary about each person, but no. He was giving Betty full biographies on the fellow 'baby Serpents' as Betty thought they were, in her own mind.

There were, in total, about twelve young serpents, discounting Jughead, Toni, Sweets, and Fangs. Four of them girls, which surprised Betty. Sweet Pea pointed out later on in the day that the children of Serpents were always welcome, if they wanted to pass the tests, and it wasn't like Serpents only produced boys.

"We do usually give 'em a nickname, even unintentionally. Something always sticks." He said. He admitted by this point, he'd forgotten most of the real names of people. The nicknames replayed in her mind like song lyrics; Darkon, Lann, Boggs, BB, Dip, Lipton, Buzz, Vade, Jedi, Stiff, Kaida, Deni, Ave, Sanders. She was surprised she remembered them all. She was surprised as she recognized who Sweets was talking about from just being around the Serpents, casually.

"What was my moms?" Betty asked after all was said and done and her mind was whirling of names of Serpents that were either confirmed dead or missing. Dead; Boggs, Buzz, Jedi, Deni, Sanders. Sanders had only been fourteen. She was so young. Missing; the rest. She felt a longing for a group of kids she didn't even know, still.

If Sweet Pea could have draped himself to look even more sexy over those seats, he would have, Betty thought (to her own dismay), his face just oozing with mischief. His lips curled and he bit his lip, raising an eyebrow.

"From what I hear, they called your old lady 'Vegas'."

Betty stiffened, "Oh sweet Jesus," She muttered under her breath, shaking her head. If someone had told her a year ago her mother- in her youth- had held a nickname related to the city of sin and bacchanalia, she may have laughed. Now...well, Betty wished she couldn't see it, but she did.

"Uh-huh," Sweet Pea looked feral, a wild glint in his eyes, "And I wondered how the hell a woman like Alice Cooper could get that nickname, when all I knew of her for awhile was you in your prissy little button ups and pastel sweaters until you did your serpent dance." He leaned close, close enough so that his breath was hot on her ear, "What can I say Cooper, you got it from your momma."

Betty tried to repress the shiver that started low in her stomach, but it was inevitable. Sweet Pea looked pleased with himself.

"Me, my nickname," Betty panted out, trying to change the subject, "What's my awesome Serpent nickname?"

"Ah, well," At least Sweet Pea knew when to step back, "I mean, I already call you Cooper," He pointed out.

"My last name? That's no fun. Plus, I don't like my last name. It reminds me of my dad." She'd told Sweet Pea all about her murderous family early on, since it wasn't like it was a secret or anything.

"What was you mom's maiden name?"

"Smith."

"Mhh," Sweet Pea waved a hand, "Boring. Ach, don't worry, I'll figure it out." He said, "Since you're so into it."

A part of Betty wanted to dive back into that very interesting tidbit about how closely he must have been watching her the night he did the snake dance, the other part of her wanted to run far away from it. Her body betrayed her just a bit, and she shifted uncomfortably in the seat. Sweet Pea offered to switch places, but Betty denied it, since she knew her problem wasn't the uncomfortable leather, it was the dampness on her thighs. Luckily, as far as Sweet Pea seemed to notice, he did not.

Damn it all.

 _July 22nd, 2018_

There was an unspoken agreement between the pair to get to their location as quick as possible. No more popping through small towns to gather materials. They had enough, Betty assessed the next time they stopped. Plus, the walker incident rattled them both enough to remind them what a dangerous world they were living in now, and why they'd gone out on this trip in the first place. To not live out of a van forever.

So, for the next week or so, there was a pattern. Sweet Pea would sleep during the day, only waking when Betty nudged him awake to give a direction left or right, but otherwise would curl up with a blanket and pillow and just let the daylight flash by.

On the flipside, Betty would sleep at night. They also did away with sleeping on the ground. As of that first night out of Ohio, they had cleared and re-arranged the van's back so that Betty would sleep on the floor of the U-Haul while Sweet Pea would sit next to her, wide awake, ready to quiet her or to wake her for a speedy get-away.

She thought it would be strange, just laying down and falling asleep with Sweet Pea sitting there, but she was so exhausted usually that wasn't a problem. Plus, it's not like he just sat there all night- he'd found a tiny reading light and was going through some novels he'd plucked himself. Tonight, he was about halfway-through 'The Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy'.

One of the nights, Betty woke up and felt a shiver down her spine. When she looked up, Sweet Pea was staring at her sleeping form. She wordlessly met his gaze, and he turned pink with the realization he'd been caught.

"I just, ah," Sweet Pea was usually suave with his words, but he flubbed this, before going back to his book, "You just looked really at peace," He finally muttered from the safe cover of the paperback.

"Oh." Betty rolled over, staring at the ceiling, biting her lip hard enough to draw blood.

She was attracted to him, okay?

It was bound to happen...last man, last woman, well, basically.

She wasn't in love with him, she was just really horny and he was a dude, so yeah. It had been months since she gotten off. She would just take care of it herself, except for the fact that they hadn't been far enough apart for Betty to do it discreetly. She'd thought about it when they were in the clinic, but if he'd woken up and needed something, she'd feel awful and selfish.

So, she attributed the way she was feeling around Sweets of late just to stupid teenage hormones.

She wondered if Sweet Pea was the same. He was a guy, so maybe it was worse. However, he didn't seem as bothered by it as Betty. Wherein his tone toward her was always teasing, Betty imagined he might be horrified to learn that Betty was actually getting riled up by it, after all this time.

Or, maybe he'd just feel proud and it would never end.

Either way, Betty was not going to tell him. As soon as she got a second alone, she'd deal with it, and that would be the firm end of it.

 _July 24th, 2018_

Betty whacked Sweet Pea awake as soon as they entered the border of Wisconsin.

"Shouldn't be long now," Sweet Pea yawned, "We might have found a place by nightfall."

The unsaid words crackled between them; they might find a place they would live in either until the end of this walker crisis or possibly forever, depending. It was a thought that made Betty's stomach churn, but at the same time, she was also relieved. She was tired of being on the road. She wanted to settle her bones in a place.

"Once we reach the midpoint, about these towns here," Sweet Pea tapped his finger on the map, "That's when we'll just start searching, I guess. Maybe we should talk about what we're looking for."

"Uh-huh," Betty swallowed thickly.

"Like on House Hunters," Sweet Pea continued. This ripped a snort from Betty's throat, without meaning to.

"You watched HGTV?" She asked.

"Toni did. I sometimes happened to be around." Sweet pea was quick to clarify, "It was always unrealistic, though. You'd get this couple and one would be all like 'Hi, I'm Norman and I play spoons on pieces of cardboard with a band for a living' and 'Hiya, I'm Laken and I make puppet shows for deaf pygmy marmosets' and then they'd have a budget of like a nickel and a plastic plate and want a Malibu beachside house with a hot tub."

"It was not like that," Betty rolled her eyes.

"It was. That's besides the point. We should sorta know which houses we can eliminate right away." He did have a point, Betty conceded. Not about House Hunters, and she loved that show so she took minor offence, but about saying what they were looking for.

"Something far away from people," Sweet Pea started, "A forest house would be good for protection wise, but I think farm would be a better bet, so we can plant shit."

"But it should be newly renovated," Betty cut in, "The world's gunna fall apart from here. I don't want a house that already has one foot in the ground. There has to be modernized houses that happen to exist on farm land, right?"

"Oh, I'm sure." Sweet Pea's fingers tapped the dash, "Something near a well or a river. We'll need water. Maybe something within a half-hour to a town, because, you'll never know when we need to get stuff."

"Couple bedrooms. In case people ever find us." Betty threw out too, "Maybe a farmhouse that has a couple properties on the space."

"Selfishly speaking, I'd love a hot tub." Sweet Pea laughed, "Or a sauna."

"What about finding solar panels? How would we run the hot tub and other stuff?" Betty pointed out. Sweet Pea clicked his tongue.

"What's something just totally non-logical you want Cooper?" Sweet Pea questioned, "Like, imagine that it's not the apocalypse and you're getting your first house and you have a little extra dough. What do you ask for?"

Betty frowned, tonguing the insides of her cheek. Ever since her and Sweet Pea had decided to find a place, she'd only thought of it in the sense of their survival. In fact, little else had been on her mind while they were driving. They weren't living in a world where she got a picket fence and a artisan kitchen or a large writing room with window that let the light in, even in hypothetical situations.

"I don't…" She began, shaking her head.

"C'mon, you have to had thought about it. What about when you thought about what kind of house you'd want before this all happened?"

Betty flinched hard. The only time she'd ever thought of a future house outside her mother's was when she imagined her and Jughead down the line.

"Oh," Sweet Pea said quietly, understanding instantly. She should have been maybe more upset she was so transparent, but on the other, she was grateful she didn't have to spell it out. Sweet Pea looked almost ill, "I didn't...dammit." They'd done so well, not talking about Jughead and her together, specifically.

"No, no. It's uh, what it is." Betty shook her head, "I guess, if I had to pick…" She pretend like she was trying to think really hard, but instead, she was trying not to think of Jughead, "A reading window. One of those bay windows surrounded by bookcases with really soft pillows and a really nice view."

"That sounds nice," Sweet Pea murmured, "I hope we find that for you."

He sounded completely sincere. Betty's heart went back to normal faster than it often did when she thought about Jughead. She wasn't sure if she missed the aching or not.

 _July 24th, 2018 (mid-afternoon)_

They batted around the idea of breaking into a realtor's office and trying their luck that Wisconsinites still did some stuff on paper instead of all online, but the idea of fighting off even a walker or two more than they had to turned them both off to it. So, about four hours later, they just began taking back roads and stopping at farm houses along the way.

"I think we'll just feel it, ya know. Like fate." Sweet Pea said. Betty had never pegged him for a person that believed in superstitions or magic or all that mumbo-jumbo, but he was surprisingly relaxed about it.

Betty was not. This was going to be her house and she had a right to be anxious, she argued.

She was beginning to feel like Goldilocks. One house was too old, another house was too close to another property, one house was great but tiny...Betty was beginning to feel not only disheartened, but frustrated.

She also wanted to find a house by nightfall. Sweet Pea was of the mind that whenever they found a house it would be the right time. Betty also thought if they waited until Sweet Pea felt the 'rightness' of a house, they could be searching forever.

They found a beaten sign for an open house that boasted to have over 300 acres. It was half-ripped and mostly in the mud, but claimed that this farm house of someone's dreams lay just at the end of a road. Betty and Sweet Pea gave each other a shrug; because, why not.

Perhaps it was the fact that when they road up to the house that looked very much unlike a farmhouse that Betty realized what their mistake might have been before this. They'd been searching all day for a farmhouse. Maybe they needed a house that was on a farm.

"Well, shall we?" Sweet Pea asked, kicking the door open with his foot. Betty jumped down too.

"Wait," Sweet Pea threw an arm out to stop her, "Hear that?"

Betty paused, "No. What? I don't hear anything." In fact, all there was currently, was silence and the wind in the trees.

Sweet Pea's grin was almost infectious, "Exactly. Has to be a good sign, right?"

Betty couldn't deny this; any walkers that may be around would make noise. There was nothing to indicate there was a walking anywhere...but that didn't mean Betty was going to let down her guard.

Walking up to the front door, Betty held her breath as she carefully picked the lock. The door swung open. Before Betty could really get a good look inside, as she was pulling out her knife, she was thrown off her balance. There was a moment of panic before she realized it was just Sweet Pea, who had picked her up bridal style and had carried her across the threshold.

"What the hell?" Betty whispered angrily, scrambling to get down.

"Isn't that what you're supposed to do at a new house?" Sweet Pea shrugged.

"Well...it's not...I…" Betty felt her face flush, "What if we walked right into a walker! And this might not even be the house." She put emphasis on 'the'. Plus, she didn't even want to bring up that's what married people do, not just two roomates (which, is what they were, sorta) entering their new pad for the first time.

"I feel like it is." Sweet Pea was absolutely serious, "I mean, look, it's set up to look like people are here for tours, but in reality, it's probably been empty since the start of this bullshit."

That was true; as her eyes adjusted and the light of the last couple hours of the day filtered into the rooms, Betty saw it was furnished, but un-lived, at least, nothing out of place. A small hope began to fill her.

She turned and let out a small scream. Sweet Pea slapped his hand over her mouth out of practice, and then they both froze in their place, waiting for an army of the undead to descend upon them, or a noise to indicate someone else was here. It never came.

Betty's heart still thumped wildly as she removed Sweet Pea's hand, staring up at the multiple heads of animals on the walls.

"If we stay here, those are going." She said dryly, brushing past Sweet Pea, "Coming?"

The house seemed pretty perfect, if Betty had to say so. It was six bedrooms with a generous sized kitchen and a wide, roomy central area for everyone to meet. From the posters on the wall, Betty gleaned this place had once been a training camp for businesses to take their co-workers on to meetings, from the awards and reviews proudly pinned up. A career retreat, or something. There was a wood-burning stove in all the big rooms and the master suite, which checked off one of their needs on the list.

As Betty was flipping through the realter's binder on the table, combing through what this place had to offer, Sweet Pea wandered off.

"Betty!" She snapped her head up, throwing her knife up and running toward him.

"What?" She asked, breathless, worried.

"There's a hot tub."

Betty let out a sigh of aggravation, "God, sweets, I thought it was a walker or something! Don't scare me like that!" She hit him on the arm as hard as she could.

"A hot tub!" Sweet Pea repeated, as though she hadn't heard.

"Yeah, I got that." She said, looking out onto the porch, the area in which he was referring to.

"There's also a reading nook, like you described. Didn't you see it?" He asked. Betty hadn't. She'd been busy trying to figure out what this place could offer. Sweet Pea was hopping he looked so thrilled, "Betty, c'mon, this has to be it. It not only has what we're looking for- realistically- but it has what we wanted as dream items. It's fate!"

Betty highly disliked the use of the word 'fate', but she couldn't deny how strangely perfect this place seemed.

"We don't know if it has all our wants, but it does seem promising," Betty tried to keep her voice level, "Let's keep looking before we decide."

They spent another hour scouring the house and making sure there were absolutely no walkers in the house. After, they checked out the surrounding structures; there were six, according to the binder that Betty now cradled her her arms. In the garage, there was a tool area with two ATVs covered in a tarp, along with a small cart machine. There was a cash of guns and weapons, along with a generator.

"God I love people in Wisconsin," Sweet Pea sighed, patting the generator, "Sane enough to have nice houses, but live in one of the coldest states so they are smart enough to have a plan B and C and D...if we can get this going…"

"Yeah," Betty agreed, nodding sharply, "Power. Plus, I bet we can vulture some solar panels…" She didn't want to admit her mind was already whirling with ideas, but it was. The Lodge Lodge had been nice, but it didn't have a generator or guns or off-road vehicles. It was all together impractical for real-world problems.

There was a smaller cabin with a deep freeze and a basement area for food storage. There was a barn, half-way renovated to at least have a sturdy structure, and an old grain storage. There was a secondary garage that had a normal car and more supplies. Farthest away was a tree blind, which Sweet Pea pointed out would be ideal for watching.

"Betty, you can't say that this isn't everything we've been looking for and more." Sweet Pea said, grabbing her shoulders, "This is it."

Betty gnawed on her lips. To say yes would mean that their search was over, which was equally refreshing and terrifying. She could just imagine, in some part of her mind, that if they stayed on the road it wasn't forsaking Jughead yet. They could still turn around, go look for him, prove he was dead or alive. To settle down would to be doing just that; to give it up, to settle. However, she was still firmly sure that Jughead was dead, due only to her own pain she felt somewhere deep, and the idea of sleeping on a real bed and not having to change locations every night was tempting. Plus, this house really was a beauty. She waffled for a long moment before smiling. They might not find a better option.

"Yeah, it is it."

 _July 25th, 2018 (early morning)_

Betty took the master's space and Sweet Pea took another room. By the time they'd un-loaded some of their stuff, night was falling. They didn't have any safeties up yet, so they decided it would be better to lock the door and try to sleep.

But Betty couldn't sleep. This time, she wasn't going to go looking for Sweet Pea, despite how she tossed and turned. The bed was the most comfortable thing she'd had in ages, yet her mind wouldn't let her rest.

To her great surprise, around 1 am, there was a shadow across her door.

"Sweet Pea?" She asked, sitting up, "You can't sleep?" The 'either' hung in the air, unsaid, but from the way she'd trailed off, she was sure he knew.

"It's just, this house is uh, big. Not that it's a bad thing, but it's not the U-Haul anymore." Sweet Pea shuffled his feet, "I just wanted to make sure you were okay." He fibbed at the end.

"It is big," Betty didn't deny or confirm. She knew he was trying to say something without really saying it, but Betty wasn't going to dig herself deeper with this growing feeling she had for him by admitting she wished he was in here too.

"Betts," Sweet Pea gave a long sigh, "You're not really going to make me ask, are you?" Betty weighed her options, wondering how much she did want him to say it. Before she could invite him, he continued, "Fine, it gives me the heebies to be out here in a room by myself. I said it." His face was as red as a tomato.

Betty patted her side of the bed.

"I mean, I can sleep on the floor, or that chair." Sweet Pea said, pointedly not looking at her, "We don't need to share the bed."

"It's like a California king size. You don't have to sleep on the ground. Plenty of space and we don't have to touch each other. I can even put up a pillow barrier."

Sweet Pea stood, arms folded, jaw locked.

"We've been sleeping this close for a month," Betty pointed out, not understanding his resistance.

"But this is a _bed_. It's different."

"It doesn't have to be. Nothing is going to happen." Betty said firmly. In the back of her mind, she did question whether or not she'd like something to happen, but from Sweet Pea's face, she doubted it would even get that far, "C'mon Jordan."

If she'd learned one thing, it was that using his name undoubtedly always got through to him.

"Okay." He agreed. He lay on the side Betty wasn't on, clothes still on. She wondered if it was one of the holdovers from their months on the road. Betty had found a pair of pj pants in the closet and was wearing her own tank. Maybe Betty was overly optimistic they wouldn't be attacked here in the middle of the night.

Sweet Pea fell asleep before Betty. They stayed on their own sides, nothing happened.

They woke up the next morning and the house was still standing.

If Betty traced it back, that was change number one in their relationship. Sweet Pea just continued to sleep on the other side of the very large bed from that night on.

* * *

 **So, they've reached a home...things are different now...things will just start to get more different from here ;)**

 **Some notes!**

 **\- #dealwithbetty'smentalissues. Like, gosh I was so excited in s3 when I thought she'd actually been seeing someone, but alas...but she's a teen, so I get why sometimes she hasn't dealt with it and I dunno, I thought that V was the type of friend that would do something sneaky like that, for Betty's health, because sometimes that's what friends have to do**

 **-Originally, I was going to tack on a like 'info' or something about all the baby serpents, like 2/3 sentences about them. Since then, I've started another fic (shameless plug) that's a supernatural!AU for Riverdale and usually when I make OCs I use them in all my stories of the same fandom. SO if you want to get to know the wolves better and how they got their nicknames, head over there, because it's mostly Sweet Pea's POV meaning the wolves have quite a big part in it :) Serpents are werewolves, Betty is a witch, and there's lots of other paranormal goodness floating around...**

 **-Vegas. Lol. So when I was writing this, I wanted Alice to have a nickname that was innoculous enough to sound cool, without being obviously sexy like 'stripper' or something haha. Maybe I should have waited because in the episode next week it's parendale so we might find out her cool Serpent nickname. But it is what it is. I totally had forgotten that the Andrew's have a dog named Vegas, so my headcannon is that Fred heard Alice being called it once and Alice made some fib that she was called that because of something much more innocent and Fred was just like Archie is now and was like 'that's a cool name' and named his future dog that XD**

 **-HGTV. That's totally how it is. I love it, no shade, but that's all I could think as I was writing out what I would have our team look for.**

 **-The house they find is an actual house that was being sold like 6 months ago! I just looked up 'farmland for sale in Wisconsin' and found ones with houses. When I was scrolling, I had like six tabs open of houses I thought might work and this one just...well, it was perfect. I had written the thing about Sweet Pea wanting a hot tub and Betty wanting a nook before I started looking and honest to god, this one had those two things. Felt like fate XD I took screen shots of the interior. I don't think I'll share them, just because that feels sorta weird, but I will probably make a floor plan and drawings of their house. I mixed in a couple elements from other houses I liked just so it wasn't really stalkerish and all.**

 **-So I've lived in Wisconsin pretty much all my life and I can totally attest that people here are sorta seriously prepared for the Apocalypse, while also being sane most of the time. I mean, you get 10 mins outside the three major cities and it's literally farmland and forests for miles. And, we're used to relying on other things to survive or not being within a good distance of a supermarket and stuff. My best friend's family, no joke, are doomsday preppers... and are totally normal people otherwise. Her dad's also an ex sniper, ya know they might be a good thing if zombies do break-out. More than that, to some extent, my family has a apocalypse plan. And, my parents are in the medical field. Smart af people. My dad went to Stanford. We're not crazy, I swear, and while we all agree a zombie outbreak is unlikely, we can't disagree that there might be some awful plague that doesn't have a fix that comes about. In that case, we have a cottage in the middle of the woods that was once an island. We'd just make it an island again and wait it all out. I almost used my family's cottage for Sweet Pea/Betty, since it's also in Wisconsin, but I had some different plans for them...**

 **Anyway, none of that is important, just thought it was interesting!**

 **I would really really love it if you love this if you would be so kind to leave a review :)**


	8. Track Seven: It's The End of the World

**Totally meant to update this, like, last Monday but I have just been so unbelievably busy!**

 **Thanks, as always, to my reviewers: Sarai Carrasco, CrackedUpVAMPIRE22, Guest, gottaloveva, Serpent818, and lovesmoonpie18!**

 **Guest: Thank you!**

 **Serpent818: I will for sure look up those songs! They def sound to be right up my alley, and right up SweetBee apocalypse alley ;)**

* * *

 _Late Summer_ **  
**

The rest of the summer was spent with hard work to turn this once-corporate retreat into a safe haven.

The first day, they went back and found the sign in the mud and took it. They couldn't have anyone else finding it, not without them wanting to. Sweet Pea was the one to remind Betty that the next time they were in town they should make their 'Jughead/Sweet Pea/Betty' signature and Betty felt a knot in her stomach over the fact she hadn't thought of it.

As it turned out, Betty took over the house while Sweet Pea worked outside. However, the gender roles weren't quite as traditional as they may seem.

First, Betty got the ATVs up and running. That was almost too easy, and took a day at most. But, now they had something smaller and better for taking routes through the woods as compared to the U-Haul. She also re-wired the truck in the spare time, because she could.

Betty told herself fairly quickly that if she could figure out the mechanics of a car, she surely could figure out the mechanics of pipes and wires in a house. She wasn't an engineer or an electrician by any means, but she was smart enough and had all the time in the world to get it right.

Well, not all the time, since her goal was to get the house on its feet by the time fall hit, before winter got bad.

She spent most of her time going between the main house and the cabin where the generator was, attempting to return electricity to the house. Also, since a generator wasn't meant to last forever, to attempt to figure out how to connect some of the solar panels Sweet Pea had found in town.

Sweet Pea became the farmer and gatherer. He'd spent years on the streets and the forests of Riverdale, and so knowing the difference between a poisonous berry and a tasty one became an imperative skill. He also took survey of the farmland near the house and began plotting. They went into town as little as possible, but the first time they did, Sweet Pea picked up a farmer's almanac and enough seeds to open up their own gardening store.

They went to a hunting store and picked up a bow and arrow to hunt around the area closer to fall, since right now they were surviving on semi-perishables.

"Maybe it runs in the family," Betty commented, picking it up and aiming it like she'd seen Cheryl do. A part of her hoped so. She wasn't an awful aim with a gun, but they couldn't be drawing attention to themselves with that anymore, as quiet as the area had been. She aimed at a knot in the side of the barn...and was horrendously off. She fully expected Sweets to tease her endlessly, but he just looked a little lost in thought.

"I sort of wish Cheryl was just here," Sweet Pea sighed, "She's a great shot."

They tried to talk about how much they missed their old friends as much as possible. It was just too painful.

They also loaded up on as much chicken wire as they could and had decided to form a protective and spikey barrier around the main housing areas. Betty took a break from the inside of the house to help Sweet Pea set this up, six feet high. That took nearly a month in itself, but she felt much more safe once it was established. She also nicked her hands more times than she could count, even with expensive gloves, but she figured it was a testament to how dangerous their barrier was. This would be a good thing.

Sweet Pea and Betty also planned on walker-traps together, including bells on branches over pits with spikes, bear traps (which Sweet Pea stayed far away from, and let Betty set), and other diversions to get the walkers before they got to the barrier. The farms were on the outside, since it was impractical to fence in their whole area and the barrier was a last resort, but a much needed safety measure. They discussed how in the future they may better it, such as building an actual wall, and it wasn't until after the conversation ended Betty realized they'd been talking years together here, planning on time down the road that should have hurt a lot more than it did.

At night, Sweet Pea cooked.

Betty wasn't a bad cook, her mother had certainly taught her well. Sweet Pea was just...better. He said it came from his years in which his mom was still alive, since someone had to cook for the both. He said he rarely had money to go to the store and buy things, but he was near enough to a personal garden where he'd sneak in through a hole in the fence and nab a tomato or two and a head of lettuce when it was dark out.

"That's probably the first illegal thing I did," He commented, "But, it made me need to learn how to cook with healthy shit, so…"

He shrugged.

"You'd be dead otherwise," Betty said, which was a fact, "And we've done more illegal things than I can count. But it's the end of the world, so...it's all about perspective, I guess."

Frankly, she was becoming increasingly more and more relieved that Sweet Pea was around.

Late Summer (July, maybe?)- Betty's Estimate

One of the nights, when Sweet Pea was hunched over the farming books they had and Betty was reading a novel in the living room, a thought hit her.

"Do we still have phone chargers?"

"Do we have power yet?" Sweet Pea asked, sparing a quick glance toward her, "I think there might be one in my bag."

It was sort of stupid to have a cell phone in the apocalypse, since there was no power most places and no cell service anywhere, but Betty had kept hers...for old times sake.

She got up abruptly and went rifling through his bag until she found that thin white cord. Then, she went and fetched one of the solar powered batteries she'd set out on the porch three days ago and plugged her phone in. Sweet Pea watched with interest, marking his page and coming up behind Betty.

"Huh," He clicked his tongue. He vanished and reappeared with his own phone.

"Couldn't get rid of it?" She asked, tilting her head toward the sleek black case. It was an iPhone, an older model. She bet that, if anything, he was keeping it to keep his music around. They'd just forgotten really about it, with all of the other stuff going on. About the creature comforts a favorite song gave. Plus, Sweet Pea wasn't afraid to sing to himself during the day, good tone or bad. Luckily, he wasn't an awful singer, almost enjoyable. Whenever Betty goaded him to sing louder, he always made it sound awful.

She weighed her phone in her hand. Why had she kept hers? Music, in general, wasn't a big deal. She couldn't text anyone anymore. She wasn't usually so nostalgic. So, why?

Hers was the newest on the market, or had been, but to most people they would just be useless piles of metal and electronics. Neither had kept them charged after leaving Riverdale. Until now, Betty hadn't dared to look. A part of her was terrified that she'd charge it, and she would have service magically and there would be messages from Jughead, and then she'd feel guilty for thinking he was dead. A part of her was terrified that there wouldn't be and there never would be again and she'd be forced to deal with the reality of it. Jughead was Schrodinger's cat. Betty, on one hand, wasn't sure she wanted to open that box.

In this moment, those fears weren't quite as forward. It wasn't until the home screen opened and it was empty that she had those thoughts, and they were a passing ache at most.

"Who's that?" Sweet Pea leaned over her shoulder.

"My niece and nephew; Juniper and Dagwood." Betty said, as the lockscreen was her with two babies on her lap. This hurt; seeing that. She was glad to have it, however.

"What sort of fucked up names is that? I can't even tell which one is the boy name and which is the girl. God, why do rich people have to give their kids such strange names?" Sweet Pea winced. Betty took little offence to the comment; she'd loved her sister's babies, but it was names she would have never in a million years named her own.

"The sort of names someone who had kids with her cousin gives her kids. Although, my sister didn't know Jason was our cousin at the time." She rushed to add.

"Still creepy," Sweet Pea shuddered. Sweet Pea hadn't been in Betty's radar during that whole debacle, so she wondered how much he knew on the subject. She almost asked, since he was a Serpent and he had to have known a little, but choose not to. Maybe some stories were better buried. Like Jason.

Not for the first time, she wondered if the babies were alive. How could they be? How could a kid survive walkers? The thought depressed her greatly, so she tried to shove the question from her thoughts as swiftly as she could. She'd come to the acceptance a long time ago that Dagwood and Juniper probably hadn't made it.

Her mind wasn't made up about her mom and sister, however, since Cooper girls were feisty.

Betty opened her notes, "Here it is! You know those Tasty or Goodful videos that were on Facebook like, everywhere?" She asked.

"Uh-huh. I wouldn't cook half the stuff they did, but it was fun to waste time watching," Sweet Pea said. "But we have no internet, Cooper."

"I know that. I wonder if I could...never mind," She had the briefest thought of maybe trying to re-connect a signal, and added that to a to-do list later, "Anyway, I was the sort of nerd who copied instructions onto my notes. I wanted to print out a cookbook of stuff one day, like for college, you know?"

She opened her notes app on her phone, meticulously organized, and scrolled through the 'Tasty' folder until she found it.

"There had been a video about how to start growing your own plants from plants you own, instead of from seeds. Might not be super useful, since we'd have to find onions and lettuce that was still good and laying around, but I dunno...I just thought of it." It was strange this was the thought that had gotten her phone out of its storage space. Not the thoughts of Jughead, Veronica, Kevin, or Archie...but a stupid list from a weird Youtube channel. Okay, so the point of it wasn't stupid, admittedly, and maybe it just showed how truly different her life was now.

She let Sweet Pea read through it, and he hummed in thought. "Well, it's nice to have. Plus, now we also have a recipe on how to make pizza in a mug and a gigantic burger filled with cheese." He said, half-sarcastic as he began reading through her phone.

"We might use some of the stuff. We should probably start an herb garden too...eventually pharmacutiles will run out." Betty added, trying not to be embarrassed that, out of it all, this list wasn't the most useful. She reached back for her phone, but Sweet Pea held it above his head. He towered over her. Jughead had been only a little taller than her, but Sweet Pea was like a giant.

"What, and give up this opportunity that I have to creep through Betty Cooper's phone? No way!"

Betty pouted, knowing that Sweet Pea could win in a fight if she tried to wrestle it from him. It's not like she had anything on that phone that she could currently think of that she wouldn't want someone seeing, but she'd wanted to go through her own phone first, after all this time.

"Only if you let me look through yours." She threw it back at him, raising an eyebrow.

"Yeah, whatever," Sweet Pea shrugged, throwing his phone towards her.

"So, to make it fair, how about we let mine charge and then while yours is charging, we look through the phones."

"Why does it have to be fair?" Sweet Pea asked, still scrolling, hardly looking up.

"Because…" Betty trailed off, "Why shouldn't it?"

Sweet Pea gave an elaborate sigh, "Pinky promise you'll let me go through it?"

"Yes." Betty agreed. She was just as curious about what Sweet Pea's phone held. He made a bit motion of setting it on the counter and Betty set his down too. He went back to his book and Betty to hers, but the anticipation crackled between them.

As soon as Betty's was fully charged, they switched them out and the fun began.

There was something fairly intimate about both of them going through each other's phone. It was something you didn't let an aquantice do or even a casual friend. Betty had maybe handed her phone over to a handful of people; she could actually count on her fingers the number of people she'd willingly let into her phone to explore- Jughead and Veronica. She knew most others were like her in that sense, so to be doing this with Sweet Pea's phone marked a second change; one in which she acknowledged that he'd managed to become the most important person in her life at the moment, a person she trusted implicitly, a person who she had only a momentary doubt about handing over her phone to. That said a lot to Betty. Also, she was curious to see what he had to say about her phone's contents. She wanted to let him see this. To give Sweet Pea her phone was akin to handing him her diary.

Sweet Pea's lock screen was a picture of what she thought might be the Southside. It was sort of blurry and taken in the middle of the night, but the train tracks were a familiar tug. She wondered if he maybe took it when they were fleeing to the North Side all those weeks ago, as a final reminder. His background was him, Toni, Fangs, and another Serpent that Betty didn't know the name of off the top of her head. It was one of the twins, though, either Jedi or were all wearing really outdated clothing and each looking pensively in a totally different direction. She gleaned they were in a fitting room of somewhere, maybe a Goodwill? The picture was at least a year old, possibly two, if she had to guess because Sweet Pea had a more boyish look to his face and Toni looked more child-like than adult.

"What's this?" Betty asked, "The background? I don't get it."

"80's rock album, Betty," Sweet Pea said, "Duh?"

She had to admit, it was pretty funny, once the words registered. It also told her that he cared a great deal about his friends, to have them on his background. Betty's own background was just a simple pink pattern. She didn't like too much distraction behind her apps.

She wondered if Sweet Pea found it odd Jughead wasn't her background. He'd been her lockscreen, until she'd changed it to the twins. There was other traces of Jughead on her phone, of course, and Sweet Pea hadn't said anything yet. So, Betty focused back on Sweet Pea's phone.

He had a handful of apps, mostly games like Words with Friends or Candy Crush. The usual media sites- twitter, Facebook, Instagram, Youtube, and Reddit- along with the generic ones that all iPhones came with. Apart from that was Uber and a couple apps Betty didn't instantly recognize, but could guess. Those didn't interest her as much.

The first thing Betty did was go to his iTunes.

The eye being the window to someone's soul was all good and dandy if you were from the medieval period, but in modern days, there was nothing more telling about what someone listened to in regards to music.

He had more songs than she did on hers, near 2,000. Betty would rotate her songs out on her phone to what she was listening to at the moment, keeping the full library on her computer. She wishes she hadn't done that now, since she didn't have her laptop anymore.

"I never knew you were into metal," Sweet Pea snickered, the first comment about her phone. He'd clearly had the same idea she did.

"Ah, well, that's new…" Betty said. She'd become more accustomed to heavy rock and metal because of what was always playing at the White Wyrm. A part of it reminded her of Jughead, to be honest, since she associated those songs with him. Her personal tastes landed somewhere a little bit like folk, a little bit like alternative. Mumford and Sons, Of Monsters and Men, Hozier...she'd had tickets to go see a Lana Del Rey concert around the upcoming August, something she just recalled and was very upset about.

Sweet Pea's music had everything she sort of guess; some grunge and 'emo' music, along with a couple tunes she would have never expected- like Miley Cyrus or the Backstreet Boys.

They spent the better part of a couple hours making subtle jabs about each other's tunes, scrolling meticulously through each other's libraries.

After, Betty's next stop was his Kindle app. Since she'd never taken Sweet Pea for a reader to begin with, the idea that he read anything sort of shocked her. Then again, he had picked up novels to read while he was on watch, but Betty just assumed it was lack of other activities.

It wasn't the modern classics Betty read, such as Toni Morrison, nor was it Jughead's almost pretentious love of literature (as Reggie had called it once), but there was more than just a random book or two on there. He had the Harry Potter series, and lots of other sci-fi titles Betty had never heard of, but wondered if he would allow her to read, in the future. Betty glanced up at him over the edge of the phone. She wondered if he was a secret Star Wars or Star Trek nerd? The thought that Sweet Pea might show up to comic cons or know Klingon beneath this gruff exterior made her lips curl into a small, happy grin.

Next, she went to his photos. Lots of group pictures with the Serpents. A lot with Toni, a lot with Fangs...some new ones with Cheryl, much to Betty's surprise. Five or so with Jughead, although none with just the two of them. It was clear to Betty that this had been his family and he cared deeply about all of them. She had never asked him about how he felt about Jughead taking over, a kid that swooped in and claimed a throne due to his father after never growing up with them. She wondered if it was even worth asking now, since the Serpents made up a group of two, at this moment, that they knew were alive. And, he was the 'leader' of the Serpents between them anyway, but it probably still stung a little.

She opened her mouth to ask him something about a picture, but she noticed the dark look on Sweet Pea's face. She tried to guess what he was looking at. She went back to his phone, but stole glances here and there, trying to gauge his reaction.

And his expression just grew more and more somber.

In fact, it took away from Betty fully enjoying her chance to stalk his Instagram or his Twitter feed as her mind whirled with questions, mostly, what was causing him to look so upset?

As far as she knew, she hadn't texted anything mean or catty about him to anyone. Frankly, he hadn't been on her radar singularly enough to be texting about. And, if she did, could he blame her? She was pretty sure that before this, Sweet Pea had tolerated her, if he gave a thought to her at all. So it's not like she was a lone in that respect.

So what was it?

He seemed to focus on one thing for a long time, his expression pulled together and his hands over his mouth, frowning at it. He'd then swipe, and stare some more.

"It's past midnight," Betty broke the silence after a long while. She didn't have the courage to ask what he was looking at, specifically, "I'm going to bed." She set his phone back down in front of him cautiously.

"I'll be up a bit longer," He murmured, but he seemed a thousand miles away. She tried to glance at the screen as she walked past him, but couldn't see anything specific. He looked at her as she passed him and the look he gave her was anguished, if she had to identify an emotion. It just made no sense at all to her.

Sweet Pea didn't come back to the room at all that night. She knew because she was tossing and turning until about four AM, waiting.

In the morning, a noise brought her out of her slumber. She snapped her hand out, grabbing the knife she always kept on the bedside table. She might have grown comfortable enough to wear pajamas to bed, but a weapon was never out of her reach while sleeping.

She looked over and saw Sweet Pea's side of the bed had not been touched. A rock plummeted to the bottom of her stomach, causing her anxiety. Was he so put off by her phone that he hadn't been able to bring himself to sleep in the room? What could he have been looking at? Betty had gone through her phone, or what she recalled having, all night and came up with nothing.

The noise echoed through the house. It didn't sound like walkers, it sounded like...music.

Betty threw on a robe and raised her knife, stalking through the house, carefully still.

Lock him in a uniform, book burning, blood letting...Every motion escalate, automotive incinerate...light a candle…

A song Betty vaguely recognized, though she couldn't place the name.

She came into the main dining area to see Sweet Pea standing at the counter, his iPhone blaring music as he cooked breakfast. She hung back a second, watching him dance a little to the song and sing every word to a very difficult song.

It's the end of the world as we know it, it's the end of the world as we know it-

Betty couldn't help but snort as the title sang itself.

Sweet Pea spun on his heels.

"Morning, Coop." He greeted, his expression completely turned from last night, "Ya hungry? I cooked omelettes on the fireplace outside." He said.

"Yeah, starved." Betty said, "Nice song?"

"I decided to make an 'It's the Apocalypse' playlist. Figured it was duly appropriate. Or, update the one I jokingly had. Had to edit it alot, I personally thought the end of the world would come in fire or a comet or some shit." He said, humming the melody, "I really missed music. I say on our next outing, we raid a record store. There's gotta be CD players still around somewhere. I mean, how did I survive this long without music?"

True; the only music they'd found in this house was either country (which, neither were a fan of at most times) and gospel music. They'd worn through the interest of both of those pretty fast.

"The omelette turned out good I think. Once we have some fresh tomatoes and onions and stuff it will be better. But this is good. I like it. I'll have to get used to no cheese, that will suck, but I guess we gotta make sacrifices."

Sweet Pea was blabbering. Betty was almost sure this was the most she'd ever heard him talk, unprompted. It made her wonder if his sunny disposition was true or if it was all a facade that he was desperately trying to keep up. From the way his smile didn't quite meet his eyes, she had a feeling it was the latter.

She decided not to press it, not right now.

"Today's bath day," Betty reminded him.

"Yeah. Any idea when we'll have running water again?" He asked, motioning to the sink.

"I can only focus on one thing at a time. Water or electricity/gas." She reminded him.

"Will you be done soon?" She knew why he seemed concerned. It was already August and in Wisconsin, as she'd learned, the weather could change within a blink of an eye. It could choose to snow the first week of September, or it could stay in the 80s until Halloween. There was no way to tell. It seemed like a cruddy way to live, and she wondered who would choose to be here (besides them, of course). Then again, it was probably the smaller population that led them to being here alone and uncontested, so maybe she couldn't complain too much.

"Of course," Betty blinked. She was inches away from getting one or the other to work, she could just feel it. Her goal was gas and electricity first; they had the wood-burning fireplaces, but she wanted a back up. Then, water next, hopefully by mid-september, when it would start to become too cold to go jump in the stream anyway.

There were still a lot of kinks to work out on both accounts.

"Will the harvest be ready?" She shot back in the same tone, tilting her head.

"Soon, uh-huh. But we should start hunting soonish too. If I have time, I might try to make a smoke house. There's deer fucking everywhere." Sweet Pea seemed okay, the more she scrutinized him, but all his words were carefully chosen. She wondered if she could get him to spill.

She finished eating and put the dishes in the sink, which was filled right now with soapy water from the well.

"Where's my phone?" She asked.

"Oh, over there. I charged it again." He said, but she noticed he couldn't even look directly at it. She cautiously unplugged it, double clicking on the home screen to see if the last things he was looking at were still open in the app.

They were, but that didn't mean she suddenly understood what was going on in Sweet Pea's mind. If anything, it only left her with more questions.

The last couple things open were all things about her...and Jughead. The photo album of their photos together (along with some tasteful nudes Betty had completely forgotten were there too), their messages leading up to the day they were separated, and other things on her phone that showed their love. Their relationship. It felt like Betty was reading someone else's diary, though, looking through these. Like a epic love story, as it was, but of someone's life that was not hers. When Betty looked up again, Sweet Pea was gone. She was a little greatful. All she really had the strength to do was to drag herself back into the room, close the door, and cry a little. Seeing the pictures, the messages, the places in which Jughead Jones had put himself into her phone broke down the barriers she'd been keeping up for months.

She felt like she was crying for the man she'd lost long ago, for a relationship that somewhere, she always knew was doomed to end in tragedy.

She loved Jughead. She had loved him more passionately than she'd love anyone else in her life; more than her mother, her father, or her sister. Her family wasn't really 'touchy-feely', so that made sense. Jughead had been the first time she'd been with someone who loved her back just as much and made an effort to show here that.

He'd always be her first love. You couldn't take that away. A part of your first love always stayed buried within you, a ember nearly out, no longer burning.

But she loved him, as in a past tense. It had now been four months without Jughead, nearing five. Soon, the time without Jughead would eclipse the amount of time with him.

And she was still here.

This morning, when she'd been in the threshold of the kitchen, when music had been playing and the smell of eggs had wafted through the house, when the morning light lit up the area...she'd been happy. It had felt normal. It had felt almost unreal, a glimpse into a world maybe without the walkers. And, even when she reminded herself there was walkers, it had still felt complete.

She'd been so busy trying to survive she hadn't realized somewhere in there, she'd begun to thrive with Sweet Pea. She'd become accustomed to this place. She'd called it home the other day and she didn't even think of that until now.

This was her home and she loved this, in the present. She cared for Sweet Pea a great ton.

And she could see herself really falling for him, or falling into this life with him.

Betty tinkered around with some wires for an hour or two, but was ultimately very distracted by her revelation. When she aquised she was unable to get anything of value done, she went looking for Sweet Pea.

He was out in the southern fields, as he'd written on his schedule (so Betty could always find him in case of trouble) tending to the corn rows there. She came carting the bath bucket, running through different things in her head to ask him before she arrived, mostly that she was curious about hs reaction last night. And, Betty had never been one to just let a matter lie.

Sweet Pea paused when she approached. He had to know eventually she would fetch him to go to the stream. The thermostat outside the house said it was nearing 88 degrees today, so unsurprisingly, he was shirtless.

Betty had seen Sweet Pea shirtless. Around week three and a half, he'd stopped worrying about that. Likewise, he'd seen Betty in her bra. Modesty isn't always completely available after the world went to shit.

However, today, Betty felt that familiar heat creeping through her to see him like this. The one she'd shoved down in the van a while back, the one she'd done very well to keep under wraps.

"I figured we'd go before it gets dark," She rattled the bucket, "Can you stop?"

"I was going to finish soon anyway." He shrugged. His voice was toneless, almost distant.

She bit the inside of her cheek, however, said little else. All of her questions that she'd so carefully pre-worded vanished at the lack of light in his eyes. Was he suddenly tiring of her as a partner? Was he planning on leaving in the dead of night? Was it her?

They were silent on their way to the stream. Betty went first, per usual, stripping down to her underwear and scrubbing her skin until it was pink, before bracing herself in the cold water to wash it away. She shampooed and conditioned her hair, looking back up to the ridge were Sweet Pea very patiently sat watch.

She wondered if he'd ever been tempted to turn around, steal a quick peak? Betty only momentarily had these thoughts, and then the idea that she had to be vigilant overrode that, however, she still wondered.

She did her work quickly, since a freezing cold brooke wasn't anything she wanted to languish in. She squeezed the excess water of her hair onto the bank, throwing on a pair of cleanish clothes and coming up to Sweet Pea.

"Your turn." She said, nodding backwards.

Sweet Pea started taking his shirt off in front of her, and cussed as something tinkled to the ground. He leaned down, picking up the dog tags that Betty had seen him literally never take off, not for anything. He wore it more than he wore his serpent jacket.

She knew what dog tags were, who they were from. She'd never asked, for reasons she was drawing a blank for, in that moment. Maybe it was because she hoped he'd offer it up himself. Maybe it was a topic she had decided was off limits. Maybe nothing.

Sweet Pea stared at them, dejected, for a second before turning to Betty.

"Can you…?" He held them out. The chain had broken, rusted away. Betty clasp them in her palms. He could have just as easily brought them to the river with him, but hadn't. He'd still trusted her with this.

"Whose are these?" She found herself asking, not looking at the name yet. She wanted to hear from him.

"Is this really the place?" He almost smiled, but it was a watery one at that.

"No, you're right," Betty agreed, "Nevermind." They were in the middle of a forest with a few knives between them, but not much else, miles away from their home. Sweet Pea turned to go wash, but turned back.

"It was my cousin's." Sweet Pea said, "Penny's brother. He was never a serpent...no, he got out of Riverdale first chance he got. He's the most honorable person I know. Complete opposite of Penny. He was about fifteen years older than me. Always said he'd take me away somewhere else when my ma would undoubtably die of some overdose. Then he went overseas and that's all I have left. I stole it from Penny and she gave me this," He pointed to a faint wound on his ribs that Betty had never asked about, figuring it was a story that would horrify her, "When I was 12. But she didn't take it back. I think she wanted to hurt me more than she ever wanted to recover this."

"I'll keep it safe." Betty promised. Sweet Pea gave a second smile, but this one was a little more true.

"I know you will, Coop." He shook his head from the thoughts, "Anyway, I'll be back in a sec." He said, waving down to the stream. Betty obediently turned around, one fist around the dogtags, another with a knife.

Slowly, she opened her fingers to examine the dog tags, curiosity getting the better of her.

The name on it was worn, and she could recall how Sweet Pea's fingers would drag over the metal square whenever he was thinking about something hard, or upset, or sad. It brought him a comfort in a way that Betty knew he had needed. Despite the way the letters were fading, she could still read it.

PEABODY, PAXTON L

XXX-XX-XXXX

A NEG

CHRISTIAN

Betty wondered if Paxton knew how much Sweet Pea needed him, but how he had still managed to comfort him after all these years.

She saw Sweet Pea heading back and blinked, wondering how long she'd been preoccupied with this. Getting lost in her thoughts was happening a lot today.

The walk back was equally silent, but Betty was even more confused. A guy that was planning on ditching her wouldn't have told her what he just did, nor trusted her with those dog tags.

Once they were inside the perimeter, Betty decided she couldn't wait a moment more to say something. She may lose her courage otherwise.

"Jordan?"

"Yeah?" Sweet Pea looked at her cautiously. She only used his name on rare occasions.

"I just want to say…" She sighed. She's decided somewhere on the hike back to turn it toward her instead of bombarding him with questions, "That I like it here."

"I'm glad?"

"No," Betty frowned, "I like it here with you. I don't regret not looking for Jughead. I stopped thinking about him all the time weeks ago. I stopped ruminating on the fact he's dead and I'm not. In all, I only think of him in passing." The admittance of that outlook stung a bit, but only because she didn't feel as guilty about the whole thing as a really devoted girlfriend should have, "Are you unhappy here?" She finished.

"Christ, Betty, no of course not." Sweet Pea frowned, "I'm alive, I have a house that's not bad and life actually hasn't turned completely shitty. You're not an idiot, so being together is easy, okay? Why would you ask that?"

"Well, you...last night…" Betty trailed off, "Ah, nevermind." She decided after a moment, deciding the topic wasn't worth pursuing, since Sweet Pea seemed to be looking at her with such confusion. She wondered if she'd merely made it up, his moodiness and his such, "Anyway, see you back at the house?"

"Uh-huh. Just got some stuff to finish." He stuck his hands in his pockets. As she was leaving, she heard, "You know, I was looking at the dates on the phones and yesterday would have been the first day of school for the new year. I would have been a senior."

Back at the house, Betty realized that Sweet pea's admittance had given her a whole slew of information she did not previously have.

The dates on both of their phones were totally wrong (still citing it was somewhere in June) which means that Sweet Pea must have looked on her calendar app and counted back or forward to the current date. Betty couldn't have even said it was a Monday with any certainty, but she wasn't going to think he was lying

Sweet Pea was a year older than her. Somewhere, in the recesses of her mind, she thought this might be knowledge she had. Riverdale was a small enough school that oftentimes, classes got mixed in. It's not like she paid close attention to Sweet Pea all too much before this, so the fact that he'd only popped up in two or three of her classes had never flagged her attention. It was something she think Jughead said offhandedly, but never took to heart. Cheryl was a year older, and Betty forgot this often enough as it was.

Sweet Pea was turning 18 this year. An adult. He was a year away from getting away and finishing high school and then this happened. How sucky. She made a note to ask him what his plans had been originally, had walkers not taken over.

She didn't know his birthday.

She didn't think Sweet Pea knew her birthday, and birthdays seemed like basic info people should know about each other.

If his dates were correct- and it was late in August, so she figured it was- that meant that her own birthday had come and gone completely without notice. She was seventeen now. She'd had a feeling it was approaching, but her birthday had been a whole week and a half ago. She was seventeen and she didn't feel a lick different from sixteen. She would have been getting a car this year, had she been alive. It would have been crappy and used and probably in a boring color like gray, but her dad was supposed to get her a car, since Polly had gotten one at seventeen.

In all, it was a lot to process, a lot to come out of a comment made off-hand and that had almost gone unsaid.

There were certain things she could react to, could remedy. She knew that this date put them at late August, which meant there was much less time before the coming fall than she thought. A part of her reminded herself it would have been smart to be working on getting heat into the house, but she let talked herself into just a couple hours to herself. To bake a cake to celebrate a day she hadn't known had passed, but a date she should be marking all the same.

If it were a normal day, she'd be making cake for it. As it was, they didn't have enough eggs or the things to make it, and an oven wasn't set up. She looked through the meager gathering of food- also reminding herself that perhaps they needed to go out once again before the sun fell- and decided to make something as vaguely sweet as she could. She had a deep longing for the Dairy Queen Ice Cream cakes her mother and father would get her as a child, despite the fact she hasn't had one of those since she turned 14. It's weird what one misses when there's nothing to have. If it was a normal birthday and her mother had made her white cake with icing and her friends had been there, Betty might not have missed that ice cream cake at all.

She could also ask Sweet Pea when his birthday was. She figured it was something she should know.

* * *

 **So, notes!**

 ***Legit, like I watched a tasty vid once and I was like 'huh, that would be useful to know for the apocalypse' and that sorta jumpstarted this whole fic if you'd believe it?**

 ***I love going through other people's music. It's so interesting to see what someone else listens to! I think you can tell a lot about a person**

 ***My brother has his phone background as an 80s album cover, and it's hilarious. I also feel like, at one point, the group filmed/edited a cheesy 90s sitcom theme song with like a really 90s song and everyone dramatically looking up at the camera and smiling**

 ***I know, I know that the 'End of the World As We Know It' song is so cliched and and on every playlist, but I LOVE that song. My dad knows all the words by heart and it's** **hilarious** **because if we play it around the house, he'll just start off by humming it and slowly get more into it. Way back before I published this, I wasn't happy with its working title, and then I wrote this chapter and I was like 'what if Sweet Pea had a playlist for the end of the world?' and since then I've gone back to make him more into music**

 ***On the dogtags the XX-XXX-XXX is where a social security number would be, but I didn't want to make one up.**

 ***I'm not sure when Betty's bday is. BUT since both times we skip over summer and Betty's bday isn't mentioned during the series, I'm assuming it's July-August**

 ***My headcanon is that Sweet Pea is a year old. Dunno why, but it is**

 **So, I hope you all enjoyed this new chapter! Remember to review ;)**


	9. Track Eight: Living Dead Girl

**Hey, hey! So according to my universe, two days ago would have technically been a year after the world ended XD Something to think about, I'd guess ;)**

 **Thank you as always to my loyal reviewers: Sarai Carrasco, Guest, Guest, Guest, Guest, and Serptent818.**

 **Guest: Glad you love it! I fully intend to!**

 **Guest: I'm glad I can make your day a little bit better!**

 **Guest: Sorry for the delay XD**

 **Guest: I fully intend to finish this...eventually. I have a lot of chapters planned out, but actually writing it? Who knew to write a story you actually had to sit down and...write!**

 **Serptent818: Oh god, stupid baby names. That's like one of my biggest pet peeves. Like, I'll get on a tanget if I start on about it. But, moving on. I actually don't have a Spotify, so like, send any and all Serpent songs my way lol. And I LOVE those three songs, although two of them give me major other OTP vibes (Mostly because they're the couples I heard them first associated with- Dramione and Summertime Sadness/Bonkai and Hypnotic) but I see where you're thinking about it ;) And yessss, Your'e so right about MCR! That album came out juuust about the time I was starting to gather my own music/my mom stopped caring if music was 'explicit' or rocky or whatever, so I had 'Sing', but not much else. It's made me re-discover it, though, so thanks! And yeah, in BOMB SP does have a totally different vibe, which I was sorta going for because a) it's started much earlier, so all the shit hasn't gone down yet and b) SP has always been much more a 'part' of the world and FP and all that, as opposed to here where he's just a kid on his own for the most part. And no fear, there will be some SP/Betts! Finally, as per your final question, I don't want to just text block up here, so it will be below in the bottom Author's Notes!**

* * *

August 20th, 2018

Sweet Pea came in before the sky was dark, as he always did.

"Here," Betty said, handing off half of her sugary concoction to him.

"What's this?" He asked.

"To celebrate...that you would have been a senior, and my birthday." She said. Sweet Pea was just using his fingers to dig into the treat and hadn't bothered for a spoon.

"Today's your birthday?" He asked, bits of crumbs falling from his mouth.

"No." Betty sighed, "My birthday was August 12th and I didn't know we passed it." She gave a watery smile.

"Oh, that sucks. Seventeen?" Sweet Pea surmised. Betty gave a sharp nod, "Well, seventeen isn't that great. You're not sixteen and you're not quite eighteen. Just ask me; seventeen was the shittiest year of my life so far."

"Worse than your mom dying?" Betty asked before she realized what she was saying. She slapped her fingers over her mouth, mortified. Sweet Pea either realized she meant no malice, or he didn't care that much.

"Yeah. It was a blessing when she left this earth. The literal end of the world? Nothing can be worse than this," He insisted.

"Well, when's your birthday?" Betty asked, glad to see him grinning and acting more the regular around her. Suddenly, Sweet Pea's mood changed. Betty cussed whatever she'd said to change that, but honestly, it wasn't even that difficult a question!

"Fall."

"Do you have to be like that?" Betty snapped, irritated.

"Like what?" Sweet Pea puffed out his chest, crossing his arms.

"So freaking mysterious about things that, I think, aren't that difficult of questions!" Betty said, "We've been together months, shouldn't I know?"

"Does it matter?"

"Well, I think it does! I like to hold onto these things, you know?" Betty implored.

"It didn't even matter when the world hadn't been run by walkers. Pretty much no one celebrated it," Sweet Pea gave a shake of his head, "But I forgot. You have a thing about making birthdays a big deal, even if it's unwanted."

Betty's expression darkened immediately. Somehow, Sweet Pea had heard about the disaster that was Jughead's birthday party last year. The first big fight she'd gotten in with Jughead was that. It was, she'll admit, not one of her finer moments. However, from the look in Sweet Pea's eyes, she knows how carefully those words were chosen. It wasn't said out of a moment of passion and malice, it was something he knew would sting, something he'd thought about saying.

"I think you're being an asshole just to be a jerk." Betty rubbed her arms, a defensive motion, holding back tears of utter frustration, "Why?"

"I am an asshole, Cooper." Sweet Pea replied lazily. She'd wondered why Jughead had disliked Sweet Pea so much when all he'd ever been to Betty was somewhat kind, if not civil. However, a personality was rearing its ugly head and Betty wondered which side of Sweet Pea was true; this side, or the side she felt she knew.

She gave a firm shake of her head, "No. You make others think you are, but you aren't."

"God you have to go out and save the fucked up ones, huh? Does that get you off?" Sweet Pea laughed harshly, "I totally am a jerk."

"You keep saying that," Betty argued furiously, "But for some reason you've thrown up these walls again! I do not believe for a second that this monster is the real face of the same guy I've been traveling with since May! The guy who watches me sleep so protective, the guy who was upset when Toni and Cheryl left, the guy who sleeps next to me." She pointed out. When his expression did not lift, "Jordan-,"

"It's Sweet Pea," He snarled, standing, pacing, "It's Sweet Pea, Betty Cooper!"

"Yeah, but you told me that name and it means something." She grabbed her plate from the table, forcing herself to set it down in the sink carefully instead of hurling it there, like she wanted, "Are you going to leave?"

"What?" This seemed to pause him. He faltered, his expression dropping.

"Leave? Are you going to leave. Because you've suddenly made it seem like I don't know you and I shouldn't trust you and you don't want to be here." Betty was terrified at the thought of living alone, but she was strong enough to have the will to live. She'd figure something out. She steeled herself for his confirmation.

"What?" Sweet Pea repeated, "No...of course not. I-,"

"Then snap the hell out of it," Betty spun, leaning against the counter and slamming her fists down, "And I'll let this whole stupid fight go if you just tell me your birthday!"

Unsureness plagued Sweet Pea's face. He wavered, biting his lip. Betty realized she still had his dog tags in her pocket and sighed, putting them back in front of him. He grabbed them out, and then mumbled something. Betty nearly didn't hear it.

"Huh?"

"October 9th."

"That's-," Betty broke off abruptly, the words nearly coming out of her mouth before she fully registered it. She looked back to Sweet Pea who looked torn between guilt and anger.

"Uh-huh. A week after Jughead's." From Betty's confused look, he continued, "Yeah, I know it. I know the date. FP wouldn't shut the hell up about his son's birthday every year, weather he was talking to him or not. It's a date in my mind I can't scrub away."

"Ah."

"And I knew if I said it, you'd only think of Jughead."

Betty met his gaze, frowning, "Is that why you've been so distant? Are you jealous I think of Jughead?" She wasn't even angry, at this point, just confused. And, truth be told, she rarely thought of Jughead moment to moment. Maybe, if something sparked her memory and because they had been together a long time, but it wasn't like the direct weeks after. And if she was thinking of Jughead, what was it to him? However, she shook her head.

"Jordan, I really don't think about him much anymore. Maybe a little nostalgically, but it's not like I...I don't…" Betty fumbled, "You pointed out yourself that we didn't date too long in the real span of things. In a couple months, I'll have been with you longer and that really puts things into a perspective."

"But you should be thinking of him," Sweet Pea said testily.

"Okay. I'm just really confused now," Betty pinched the bridge of her nose, "I don't get it."

"What is there to get, Betty?" Sweet Pea had stood up somewhere in her stumbling explanation and he now paced, "I shouldn't have told you that. I shouldn't have been...I should have told you to go to Arizona."

"On a wild goose chase?" Betty asked, "We might have never found anything. I accepted that a long time ago."

"I am an asshole, though-,"  
"Oh, hell, we're back to this?" Betty threw up her hands.

"-because you should still be in love with Jughead and I've been saying things here and there go get you over him, to make you act like it wasn't all that it was." Sweet Pea finished.

"So you'd rather me be crying and sad and depressed, all over the house? You're angry because I've begun to move on? I didn't think you two were that close!" Even Archie, who was Jughead's best friend, hadn't denied kissing her too much last winter.

"We aren't." Sweet Pea was quick to confirm, "Which is why I've been doing that. And I...on your phone...you really love him."

"Loved, maybe." Betty frowned, "I mean, I love him in the way that I've always loved him, but I don't think I love him anymore, present tense." She tried to connect the dots in her mind. She was an investigator, it shouldn't have been so hard, but the point Sweet Pea was trying to make- his motivations- were still muggy to her.

Looking at her and Jughead on her phone had set Sweet Pea off. He somehow felt guilty for encouraging what Betty felt was inevitable. Maybe even without Sweet Pea, she still didn't think she'd go to Arizona with no leads. Jughead had always been the romantic. It was Betty who had been the one who thought with her mind before her heart. She probably would have gotten over him at the same pace, or she wouldn't have, but she knew that even at this point Betty Cooper wouldn't still have been crying about a boy.

She'd thought about the future with Jughead, sure. The fact it was gone hurt a little, but they also could have naturally broken up in time. From the way Sweet Pea was talking, it was like he thought he'd broken up Romeo and Juliet. As cute as it had been for them to pretend, Betty was a realist. She knew that their love wasn't written in the stars. It was just two teens that were lucky to find each other.

"We fought a lot," Betty said after a quiet second, "The pictures of us? The Instagram posts? The messages? That was just a small part of it. We started out really good, but even then, I threw him that stupid party after he told me not to. And, then we were always hiding things from each other. I think we got back to a good place at the end of it, and I'd rather leave the memories there than that we ended badly, you know? And, up until that last night, there was so much that both of us were trying to juggle that we hardly saw each other anyway." Betty's eyes filled with tears, "It could have gotten bad again. He could have broken up with me, or I with him. This town had too many secrets." She said, referring to Riverdale, which was one of the biggest wedges in their relationship.

"You can't know it would have ended," Sweet Pea said, almost longingly, "That choice was taken."

"I don't know it would have ended good! He basically proposed to me, at sixteen! Neither of us were ready for that." She said, "And then Archie got arrested and we were trying to take down mob bosses and drug dealers and serial killers. That's stuff for adults. We were sixteen." Now, only seventeen and not that much older, Betty admitted that she wasn't any more ready to deal with this, but in an instant, sixteen seemed so young.

"Betts," Sweet Pea said and then frowned, "Betty." He corrected himself. Betty was pretty sure he'd just started calling her 'Betts' to piss off the memory of Jughead.

"You can call me Betts. That's okay." Jughead was hardly the first one to ever give her that nickname, he was just the first to use it so frequently.

"A part of me feels you should just be with him." He mumbled.

"As opposed to?" Betty asked, "Sweet Pea, do you…?" She trailed off, looking down. It was to hide the redness creeping up her neck, the heat over her whole body. She hadn't known he'd looked at her like that, she'd thought she had been alone in her fantasies.

He took a step to her, sighing. His fingers traced over her jawline and he gave a sad smile.

"Goodnight, Betty." In his answer, it said what he left unsaid. But, at the door to upstairs, he paused, looking back, "He really loves you, too." He added, so quietly she almost didn't hear.

"Loves, as in present." Betty murmured, "What does your gut say. You still think he's alive?"

"Does it matter? You don't believe in that to begin with." He asked, and then, more forcefully, "Does that make a difference?" Betty opened her mouth, struggling for a reply. What would be better to hear? What would be worse? Sweet Pea never gave her a chance to answer and exited, leaving her panting and angry and sad all at the same time. She wanted to run after him, follow him. But she couldn't. Betty didn't push it, not tonight. She let him walk away. Where would he go anyway?

He didn't return back to their bedroom that night either. As Betty contemplated it all, and the fact that she knew Sweet Pea was attracted to her in some way but had this sense of morality all of a sudden and guilt about Jughead that kept him away. She thought about how this had been their first huge fight too. She thought about how it didn't feel real with anyone, any sort of relationship, until you had a fight with them that mattered. You didn't get this angry with acquaintances, you didn't use words to hurt casual Facebook friends, and you didn't get so heated over a kid who served you ice-cream once. No; the fact they'd fought confirmed a line that they'd crossed without even knowing it.

August 21st, 2018

Betty does not push the issue. By morning she has worked this through her mind so many ways, so many times, that he is sure of her thoughts. There is one very big truth that she cannot go without acknowledging; she cannot lose Sweet Pea, and right now having him is more important than her own childish crush.

Had this world not been how it was, had it been normal, Betty would have never stopped until she got a better answer. If her and Jughead had broken up again, and this time it really was forever, and Sweet Pea had happened to start hanging around her at Riverdale, her reaction would have been different. Or, more aptly, if breaking up with Jughead wouldn't have been her choice and he had been forced to move back with his mom and Jellybean and Sweet Pea was having these same weird feelings holding him back, Betty would still have not accepted the wall he was putting between them. Betty would have gone and kissed him and not let him say no.

But this was a different world now, and the truth of the matter was, Sweet Pea was the most important person in her life. She could not jeopardize that.

He wasn't just a friend, as Archie had been. He was more than a best friend, like Veronica had been. At this moment in time, he was even greater than a lover, like Jughead had been. Sweet Pea was her partner and Betty longed for a dictionary to find a more apt word. Currently, she wouldn't have been able to find a singular term to describe him, but here it was. They were each other's protectors, confidants, companions, and sanity. Maybe the word to best describe him would have been to say that he was her family.

Yes, that was it, he was her family now. Frankly, the only family either of them had left. Alice Cooper was plucky, so Betty wasn't discounting that she might be kicking around somewhere. She's not sure about Polly, because having two babies changes things. She hopes her father is dead, but honestly, a psychopath like him is probably handling things just peachy. So, the might still be alive, but none of them are here. It's only those here that matter anymore. In this world, worry for people you cannot know are out there is wasteful. There are so many more present, more tangible things to be worrying about. In truth, she cannot even give worry to Jughead, if he is alive. She can just hope for the best and that's about it. And, since she still firmly thinks he's dead, the best is that he died fast and that his family do not hurt too bad.

A long time ago, when she was 14, her mother had told her that you can choose your family too, not just your friends. At 14, this had greatly confused Betty, because no one had asked her if she wanted Polly as a sister or her overbearing mother as her mother. The only thing Betty could think of is that it was a subtle way of her mother reminding her to choose her future husband wisely, since they became your family one day.

Now, Betty was sure she was talking about the Serpents, perhaps feeling regretful. It was true; you made your own family. You might share blood with certain people, but that did not mean that they were your family, not if you didn't want them to be.

Betty wished she could explain to Sweet Pea that she'd chosen him many times over in the past few months, enough so he shouldn't be so self-conscious.

If she was thinking back on it, there were three marked times in which Betty Cooper choose Sweet Pea over all others. The first; that day when they exited the Lodge apartments after being trapped there. Betty could have gone one way, him the other.

The second (and, in Betty's opinion, the most important of times) when she choose to stay with Sweet Pea instead of going with Toni, Cheryl, Chuck, and Ethel to New York. She choose a grouchy serpent over her own cousin. That was the day she cleaved away the ties of bound family and really made the distinction that held true today.

The last; when she choose anywhere but Arizona, when she let Sweet Pea choose to.

But, she also knows Sweet Pea enough that if she tries to fix this all right away, he'll just push her away stronger than before. So, she lets him be for about three days. For three days they pass around each other like ships in the night. Sweet Pea throws himself into tilling and planting and gardening and spends longer hours than before out there. Betty really hunkers down and tries to figure out how to get electricity because it's not too much longer until winter and they need it, along with heat too.

When she gets antsy or wants to go and confront Sweet Pea, she goes out and kills walkers from the pits.

Betty's darkness, which shows up even less than it ever has, is still around. It's always going to be around, she's come to terms with. However, darkness in a pretty dark world is turning out to be okay...especially when survival is so based on killing things. She's hesitant to call them people, because they truly aren't. There's no glimmer of humanity or of humane recognition anywhere in their soulless eyes. The spirit that once inhabited them are simply gone. Ghosts in the machine.

It's never been stated between them, but she feels like Sweet Pea leaves the walkers for her to kill on purpose. She thinks half of it is to bolster her own abilities to shove a knife into a skull. She thinks the other part is that it's an effort for her to curb said darkness.

Being able to take her machete and slice down enemies is strangely therapeutic for Betty. Whenever she considers about how fucked up that actually is, she recalls her father was a literal serial killer and she thinks that, actually, she's fairly well-adjusted.

On the third day since their 'big fight', Sweet Pea flops back down on the left side of the bed, as though nothing happened between them. He uses his toes to shuck off his shoes, sighing into the pillow.

"Are...we good Sweets?" Betty almost doesn't want to ask. She does not want to jinx it. Sweet Pea just turns over, smiling quietly at her. She sees that he's managed to fix the dog tags. His fingers rub over the beads, and for a second, there's only silence.

"Yeah," He finally agrees, "We're always going to be good."

It's the acknowledgement that they're likely going to fight again, but it's also a promise...they're not going to leave each other. Betty thinks this is very adult of him (and, technically, he will be soon) and just watches him roll back over. Sweet Pea is asleep in moments.

She can quell her feelings for him, the feelings she's not even sure how to classify, to keep this. Nothing is more important to her.

September 1st, 2018

Betty manages to get the heat up and going just before it starts to get a little cold. Not unbearably cold, but chill in the air cold, at least at night. She also manages to hook up some of the solar panels they found and, for the first time in a very long time, the house flickers to life. It's not a long-term solution, but it's a solution for today and that's what really matters. Day by day. Tomorrow, if this all goes to shit again, they've dealt with that once. They'll deal with it again.

"Oh, god. I forgot what AC feels like," Sweet Pea says, sitting right in front of it, "You're amazing, Cooper."

Sweet Pea's farming, however, is not quite as successful. Betty can tell that her and Sweet Pea have one thing in common; no one is a worst critic to them but themselves. Sweet Pea blames himself endlessly and violently for the meanger crops that manage to grow.

Betty tries everything to get him to listen to her, and finally just decides to be firm.

"Look, stop wallowing." She says, and he jolts at her voice, "We got here late. You started planting way after you should have. We know better for next year. First year we were bound to have some rough parts. I mean, we still have cans, so we'll just stock up and use those. We'll hunt too. We'll focus on staring as soon as the snow melts next year and we'll read and get better. You've never planted anything before so," Betty weighs her hands. At least he managed potatoes, which she knows they can store a long while. They have a root cellar.

"Yeah but I-,"

"Not another word!" Betty hopes she looks slightly terrifying when she puts her hands on her hips and scowls. Terrifying enough to make him stop, hopefully.

"But you managed to get the whole house working."

"It's not the whole house. I still have plenty of things to work on, Sweets," Betty rolled her eyes, "Plus...nature is unpredictable. Wiring and electronics are, even if we don't understand them right away." She pointed out, "With enough time, I was always going to get it. Even if you had all summer, the crops still might have sucked, and it wouldn't be your fault at all."

When Sweet Pea didn't respond, just kept his head low, Betty started to leave the room. She did still have other things to work on, like water, especially if they didn't want their pipes to freeze.

As she was leaving, she heard him say, "I just want us to get to next summer."

"I do too," Betty said, "And we will. We'll chart food, be careful, dry meat once we start hunting. Sweet Pea, we will survive."

At Sweet Pea's still darkened mood, Betty glances around their main area. Her eyes catch on the patio, something that's used pretty rarely at the moment.

"Sweets, you know what the fall means?" She asks.

"That all my plants will die?" Sweet Pea mutters sourly. If Betty didn't know better, and maybe she doesn't, she'd say that Sweet Pea was actually very attached to his plants in a very paternal sort of way.

"That we can finally use the hot tub."

There's a pause. When Sweet Pea looks up, his face has split into a grin.

September 15th, 2018

They can't use the hot tub right away. It's dirty and gross and Betty can't find chlorine anywhere. Plus, to use it at all, that's a bit of energy. Actual literal energy. However, she's willing to use it maybe once to appease Sweet Pea. But they still need chlorine. She adds it to her ever-growing list of things they need to get before winter really hits.

On September 15th (because now she's started to keep track), she declares that maybe it's time that they take a trip into town, something neither has done since arriving here. They've been out, but not very far from their own little space once or twice, but they haven't spent a day gathering supplies since they were road tripping. The day is hot and Betty isn't sure how many more hot days they have, so they should take advantage of a day that is begging to be spent not inside. If this were the normal world again, a day like this was one she might consider playing hooky (but never gain the courage to do) but spend all her time after school laying in her yard and ignoring her school work.

She looks over Swee Pea's leg, and it seems to be healing up nicely. Soon, it will be nearly healed, though she's sure it will still have a scar. It's healed enough so it's no longer a burden and she figures that if he covers it in a plastic bag or something, when they hot tub is cleaned and ready, he can use it.

They take a day to go around the compound and make their lists of what they need to get. It's a little scary, leaving their house. There's the fear that someone else might be here when they get back, but splitting up (Betty staying or Swee Pea staying) is simply not an option. Besides, Betty has gotten into the groove of living here and it might feel strange to go back out into town where things are still destroyed. This house, here, it's easy to act like they're on a vacation where the AC and the water main have burst and it's just them, but it's still all normal. They will, once again, be confronted with the fact that the world has ended out there.

She wonders if there will be others? Other humans?

Betty wonders what would be the worst outcome; to find other humans while they're out, to see signs that other humans were there, or to see no sign of human life at all?

If they find other humans, there's the chance they're not friendly and they end up having to fight not only walkers, but other people. Betty can kill a walker. She can kill a human, if pushed to, but she's not sure she'll like it.

If there were signs of humans that came by before, then it's the crippling reality that Betty and Sweet Pea have missed them, other people who could be helpful or friends or even someone they knew. Or, it means that maybe this group could follow them back to their sanctuary and that's terrifying too.

Finally, if there's no one...or, no signs of humans from a recent point, that means they're really, alone, doesn't it? And, isn't that worst of all?

"No, defiantly if we find others." Sweet Pea doesn't even think about it, when she asks him, "We've been alone for months. We know we're alone. I don't know why that would suddenly freak you out now? And I've done a lot to survive, but having to kill other humans- even if they were shitty people- I dunno...that would just feel, yeah."

Betty sees his point, but disagrees.

On September 16th, they wake at dawn. They've decided to take the U-Haul, because they're hoping to get pretty much everything they'll need for the rest of the winter, conceivably. Neither wants to have to leave again, but no one says it out loud.

"Where is your list, Sweets?" Betty asks when he comes down to the car with just his headphones and iPod.

"Where's yours?" He parrots back.

Betty waves a piece of loose-leaf. Her list is very strictly reasonable things. She can, internally, say that if they have the chance and room they can grab more 'fun' things, but obviously survival is the number one. Sweet Pea snatchces her list away and reads it, humming to himself.

It reads;

 _Food_

 _Clothes-specifically warm clothes_

 _Medicine_

 _CVS/Walgreens_

 _Books_

 _Firewood, pre-chopped, if possible_

 _Blankets_

 _Restaurants_

 _Walking_

 _Hospitals_

 _Gasoline_

 _Chlorine and other Hot Tub items (Bathing suit?)_

 _Solar or Wind Powered Generators_

 _Candles_

 _Batteries_

 _Radio_

 _Large Bins_

 _Sewing machines_

 _Salt/Smokehouse_

 _Hunting materials_

"Yes, yes, very smart." Sweet Pea says and Betty resists the urge to roll her eyes, "We're going to bring back a whole hospital?" He asks cheekily.

"You know I mean to go through and grab stuff, items, from it. Like, sutures or that staple gun you love so much." Betty says. Sweet Pea shudders as he recalls stapling his skin together.

"Yep," His voice is the most sarcastic he can make it, "Large bins? That's specific."

"Like, just any large bins," Betty makes a hand motion, "For rainwater collection, I mean, even if I get the heat on, it won't be for a lot and we should have a back up. Plus, we can't be going back to the streams, so we might have to bathe in a large bin, and, yeah." Betty explains her thoughts. She doesn't know why. It's not like Sweet Pea's opinion on this list matters. However, Sweet Pea nods thoughtfully.

"And salt? Just vats and vats of salt?"

"I guess I should have marked it, but salt for the winter, to get rid of ice as well as salt for meat. So, yep, basically. Vats and vats of salt," She adds dryly, "And you just decided, what, not take a list?"

"Actually, I have it right here," He shoves up his sleeve to show a list written down his arm with scraggly sharpie, "Paper is a resource that's gonna run out one day, Cooper. I'm actually being smart by doing this."

"Uh-huh, 'crept you can't really read it." Betty grabs his arm, twisting it to read Sweet Pea's handwriting, which isn't usually so horrendous, but then again he's writing a large list onto his flesh with a Expo marker or something. She thinks he just couldn't find paper or forgot to and did this like ten minutes before he came down.

His list is very different.

 _Tractor (GAS!)_

 _Cow/goat/dog_

 _Seeds_

 _Booze_

 _Guns_

 _Arrows_

 _Traps_

 _Cans_

 _Farms_

 _Money_

 _Boat_

 _Glow sticks_

 _Fish_

 _Exercises stuff_

 _Board games for when we're bored af_

 _Apple Store (But I'd settle for a record/CD store)_

 _Banjo_

 _Grain crusher_

"Yeah," Betty snorts, "I have, well, a few questions about yours. Lemme just...let's just go through it one by one." She feels like his needs some explaining, "First, you want to get a whole tractor?"

"It would make planting a whole lot easier," Sweet Pea says.

"And, cows? Goat? Dog?" Betty scrutinizes him.

"If we want milk or cheese ever again, we gotta find a cow or a goat. I mean, if any are still alive, we gotta get 'em now, or else we won't have them. And I think a dog would be cool, you know? We can train it to be a guard dog."

"Sweets, we can barely survive ourselves and you want to add another animal to that?"

"A useful animal. Maybe a chicken…" Sweet Pea grabs a marker from his pocket, uses his teeth to uncork it, and scrawls 'chicken' as an addon to his list.

"Booze, I guess that doesn't need explaining, but I don't think that's totally needed...um, cans?"

"Like cans to make walker alerts. I guess with food, that solves that."

"Right. The money? Rob a bank, you're saying?"

Sweet Pea shrugs, "If we both think the world is going to fix itself one day, which, let's say we do, I want to be properly prepared. Plus, no one's gonna know it was us. If not, maybe I just want to know what it feels like to hold like a million bucks in my fingers."

Betty decides to just let that all go, there's still more concerning or confusing things to get through, and the day is waiting.

"Boat? For that tiny lake?" She points to the lake on their property, clearly a man-made one.

"That sorta goes with fish. We get some fish so that by next year, they've populated and all and we can catch them every so often. I guess we don't neeeed a boat."

"No, not really."

"Fine," Sweet Pea mumbles and uses the marker to cross it off. He keeps 'fish', however. It's not a bad idea, Betty just thinks any fish that survived are long dead, since no one's been around to feed them. This means they might have to go fishing...somewhere.

She figures glow sticks aren't the worst investment, since it's light whenever you need it and exercise stuff makes since too, because they'll be holes up all winter and need to stay as fit as possible to fight walkers.

"Last one...erm, do you possibly mean, a mill?" She says, pointing to the last thing on his arm.

"Yeah! That's the word. You done grilling me? Oh! Do we have a grill? We should get a grill." Sweet Pea says and Betty just sighs.

* * *

 **A couple noooootessss**

 **-I meant to update this chapter on Dec 6th but got totally overwhelmed with school. Why you ask? That's actually the day that the episode with Betty's Serpent Dance aired. That's the day that I, and I think many of us, became Sweet Betts shippers, due to his face during it...never have I ever been able to poinpoint the day one of my obsessions started... I say we should make Dec 6th SweetBetts Ship Day! Who's with me?**

 **-When I actually went and researched how long Betty was actually with Jug...it really wasn't that long for them to be making all those declarations. I mean, it feels longer cuz it's over two seasons, but the entirety of s1 took place in like two months, did you guys know? So, yep...**

 **-I always feel like the first fight between a couple is a HUGE deal, which is why I showed it...plus I love me some good ole angst**

 **-So, sorta a note, when I also wrote this (or, the fight, since I wrote the fight way before I wrote anything else) S3 hadn't aired. At the end of s2, and for most of s2, Bughead was sorta rocky. S3 they have been markedly better and I enjoy them more again.**

 **-For some bizarre reason I cannot explain, I totally thought Jellybean and Gladys were in Arizona? Like legit? I'm not sure where that came from...**

 **-The rating for this fic will change. I wasn't sure about it before, but out of the blue I had the urge to write some good old SweetBetts smut, so I did. It's far away from now, but be aware that the rating will be changing for sexy times!**

 **Lastly, above, Serptent818 asked frankly what it's like to live in cold ass states. Since Betty and Sweet Pea are now living in one of these states, I actually thought it might be interesting for everyone if you live somewhere warm. However, feel free to also skip because it will be long!**

 ***So, I've lived in Wisconsin most of my life, so like, I'm talking on good authority. Wisconsin in particular is crazy because we can go through all four season in one week. It's normal for the weather to drop or rise 40 degrees in one night. In other places, like Cali, where my bro lives, he talks about how it basically stays within a 20 degree window. Lol not here. You have to be prepared for literally anything.**

 ***In the summer, it gets up to 80s and sometimes 90s. In the fall, it's rainy and usually 50's. In spring, 40s. In Winter...well, average, around 20-30, but it can get very, very, very cold. I'm talking -30 with windchill. That's not usually till Jan tho. Dec is usually pretty mild and not very snowy and then it's 'winter' from Dec-April. It even once snowed at the May Graduation at my college. It was a miserable commencement ceremony, from what I've heard of it.**

 ***We don't get a TON of snow (at least, not by most midwestern standards). We'll get two or three big dumps, but more than that, it just gets COLD. I remember my senior year, we had five days of school cancelled because it was legit too cold for the busses to run. It was -45 for nearly two weeks straight. But, when it gets cold is totally a shot in the dark. Sometimes, it's cold and snowy by Halloween, other times it's warm enough to wear sexy skimpy outfits.**

 ***Wisconsin is mostly farmland. There are about five 'major' cities, but if you get outside of any of those five mins, it's literally cows and corn. Because of that, in my childhood town, there were kids that lived up to an hour away and just drove in everyday (we actually had to ban tractors from parking in our parking lot, since kids sometimes drove tractors to school. Fall harvest is still totally a thing that kids are pulled out of school for) and the rule is, that if your county cancells school because the roads aren't plowed, you aren't required to come into your high school. So, this one kid who lived out on a farm, was snowed into his area for about a month. It was fun, until it wasn't. He literally started Skyping into classes.**

 ***You pretty much have to have clothes for all occasions, but specifically warm things. If I get sweaters from anyone, I'm happy. The BEST Christmas gift I ever received was a stadium jacket that goes down past my knees, becuase I get so much use out of it. It's for nearly negative 30 below weather. But, because we get so cold here, like people will not put on coats/winter clothes until the last second. My brother says it's so weird in Cali because people will put a jacket on if it goes below 50. Most Wisconsinites wouldn't even think to put a jacket on until about 30. I mean, I'll literally look at the weather and unless it's 32, I usually don't bother with my super warm jacket. You'll have kids wearing shorts in 32 degree weather and it's just like 'yep, normal'. I had a roommate from Connecticut and our first semester in college, it got to around 20 degrees and she was like 'Lexie, you're right, it DOES get cold here' and I was just like 'Oh...oh honey...it's not even that bad yet...this is nice weather...'**

 ***All kids learn how to drive (usually illegally by like 14) and everyone knows how to drive in snow. It could be blizzarding and we'd probably still be out there. It takes a lot more than that to stop us**

 ***NEARLY EVERYONE IS A HUNTER. My fam is the odd family out because we just don't hunt. But I swear to god it's a religion here. My old HS, which was super preppy btw, cancelled school on Open Season starter days because they knew MOST of the school would skip anyway. And, a lot of people actually sustain themselves on what they catch and eat. I mean, in general, we don't have a ton of vegans/vegetarians here. Meat is a big part of our culture because for more than half the year THINGS DONT GROW**

 ***When it is warm here, it's humid as hell. Mosquitos are awful.**

 ***Everyone has a cabin or knows someone that has a cabin 'up nort'. Some Wisconsinites have a 'Youper' accent which sounds vaguely Canadian. We have something called the Wisconsin 'Ope' which is this little exclamation we make when you like have to pass by someone or bump into someone. It replaces sorry, but can be used for just about anything else, and we'll know what you mean.**

 ***There's almost nothing to do in a lot of the smaller cities, especially because it's cold all the time. So, in High School, the things to do was to go to the movies or wander around the malll...or drink. There's a reason why Wisconsin has 8/10 of the drunkest cities in America...We specifically like our beer here**

 ***You just get used to the cold. I literally can wake up for college classes, look at the weather, go 'huh...it's -35 degrees...guess it's time to walk to class!' and you just do it. I don't think my college has ever cancelled classes school wide. I did have a professor that didn't count you for attendance unless you walked in wearing a coat, gloves, and a scarf because it's just stupid to not wear those around**

 *** A lot of people around here are survivalists just because, well, a lot of living here is basic survival. The hunting. Knowing how to work a generator or solar panels or wind turbines or what have you. I know the basics of wilderness survival and I hate camping as it is. We also all have a love for board games, for when the power or internet goes out. Internet up in the woods as it is is usually spotty at best.**

 ***We really do love cheese and milk as much as you all say we do. It's good af here though, and so cheap. We have something here called Cheese Curds which are little pieces of cheese either deep fried (omg so good) or we have fresh cheese curds, which are the curds left over and they're fresh and squeak when you chew them and it's utterly delightful. You can only get good cheese curds in Wisconsin, so if you get it anywhere else, it's a fake.**

 ***I said Hunting is a religion? I take that back. Packer fans are. I grew up in Green Bay, so it was like...a sin not to like the Packers. I mean, we as a town collectivly own them, so it's pretty cool. I even own a part of the Packers. And all the players are just so NICE and down to earth, really. But on a Packer's home game, Green Bay is DEAD. It's the best time to do anything because no one is around. And it's a thing to go to a Packer's game in -below weather. You're not a true fan unless you've done it once. You drink a lot of beer to stay warm.**

 ***The sun sets super early and rises sorta late. My dad goes to work before it rises and comes home after it sets (around 5pm) so we spend most of our time in just darkness. Because of this, depression is super prevalent. It's so easy to just feel like doing nothing. SAD is no joke, y'all. I don't mind it, but it gets into a lot of people's heads really easily.**

 ***Finally, you can take us out of the cold, but it's in our blood now. My family took a summer vacation to Alaska (see) and we took a tour on a glacier and guess what? We found people from Green Bay working up on a literal sheet of ice. Just goes to show XD**

Hope those answered your questions in general! It was super fun to write out!


	10. Track 9: I Will Follow You Into the Dark

**Hello everyone! I'm so thrilled to see this story picking up some traction :)**

 **Thank you, thank you to all my lovely reviewers (always nice to see more SweetBetts joining our very small ship!): Der Schwarez Prinz, Guest, thebluefeather!**

 **Guest: I'm gunna try to hit about every once a month for an update!**

* * *

 **Song for this Chapter is 'I'll Follow You Into the Dark' by Death Cab for Cutie, although there's a cover by The Running Mates that I just adore, so I'd encourage you to check that out too!**

* * *

 _September 16th, 2018_

The drive into town doesn't take too long, or not as long as Betty anticipated. If she had Google Maps still working, she could have known exactly how long, but instead she has Sweet Pea turning the map around to view it from different angles and using a finger to measure the distance, guessing from there.

It's less than half an hour.

"So, this is what the pilgrims felt like, or something."

"Or our parents," Betty says, neatly folding the map back into the glove box, since they figure out it's pretty much a straight shoot to Niagara, WI. For as good as Sweets is with that map, left to his own devices, he'd shove it away crinkled and hastily. This is the best map they have. They aren't in a position to be tearing it any time soon, even if they have zero plans of leaving their safe haven in any near future.

At the fork, right after exiting the back county road that led them here, Sweet Pea jumps out and scouts left and right.

"Left; town. Right; suburbs," he says once he jumps back in, "So?"

Betty gnaws on her lip.

"What are you doing?"

"Weighing the pros and cons in my mind," she snips back, a little grumpy about his interruption.

Okay, where was she?

If they go to the suburbs, the pros are is that it's less likely to have been pre-picked through. Plus, as they've established, people here keep continually surprising and helpful things.

Cons; they can't possibly know what a house has (if anything at all) until going through it. It will take time. More chances to run into walkers or people still surviving. Lastly, it feels strange to pick through someone's dead life, to nod to Carol in a picture who was a waitress as she carried the late owner's valuables out into her own car. It feels...slimy.

And, despite Sweet Pea's strange list, combined with her own, they do have objectives.

"Town," She says, but is already turning left.

"Who are you using the blinker for?" Sweet Pea scoffs.

"Just because it's the end of the world doesn't mean I'll act like some sort of animal who doesn't use common road courtesies." Betty replies, but it's more of habit than anything else.

The first place they come across is an animal hospital. The car idles as Betty draws up to it, tapping her fingers on the dash.

"It probably has medical stuff," She whispers, but makes no move to leave the car.

She's been seeing dead humans this whole time. Heck, she's been seeing dead humans since before the apocalypse, so that doesn't freak her out. What does make her panic is the idea of seeing all those dead animals in the cages, poor dogs and cats that were left by their owners, that probably died wondering where they went. It actually makes her tear up a bit. Nothing is worse than a dead dog.

"Look, one of us should actually stay with the car. It's pretty open here," Sweet Pea is already adjusting his weapons to maximize effectiveness, "I'll go and be right back."

"No, no," Betty shakes her thoughts away. She appreciates what Sweet Pea is doing, but Betty is stronger than this, "Together. Always."

She turns the car off, hops out of the car and grabs a pillowcase, slinging it over her shoulder like a rag, "Coming?"

Sweet Pea offers her a watery smile before grabbing his own Transformers pillow case to loot the office.

The door has been barricaded. It takes Sweet Pea and Betty's combined efforts to open it; Betty managing to unscrew the door handle right off and Sweet Pea slamming his body agains the door until it budged.

One step in and Betty is overwhelmed with the stench of death and decay. It's a smell she's been able to put out of her mind for weeks now, but one that reminds her of the ruins of Riverdale. She slaps both palms over her nose and mouth, making a disgusted noise while trying not to inhale.

Sweet Pea gags a little bit, before reaching into his back pocket and pulls out two bandanas. He hands one to Betty, who just stares dumbly at it for a second, watching as he ties his own around his head and pulls it up right below his eyes.

She gets the reasons. Sometimes, Sweet Pea thinks ahead. Sometimes, the Serpent can be smart.

"They tried to hide out," Sweet Pea says, kicking aside a couple boxes from the doors, before opening one to see just stacks of papers and binders.

It wouldn't have mattered, the walkers had found their way inside.

There are three to kill and none of them even get a chance to try to attack the pair.

They look well fed. Since there's few hints of other humans besides the three, it draws Betty to a conclusion that makes her stomach lurch. The door to the cages where they kept the animals is partially open and the floor is covered in blood. Betty thinks of Vegas. It's been a long time since she thought of the Andrew's sweet dog with his chocolate eyes. She remembers playing with him in the yard as a very young girl, begging her own father for a dog of her own. She knows there's no possible way that Vegas would be in that room, but the thought of all the pets and owners forever separated breaks her and-

"There's likely nothing good in there," Sweet Pea's hand leads her to the offices and break room. She glances up, blinking. Sweet Pea's body is shielding her from that door, from that room. It's not a brotherly sort of way either, but it's sort of similar to the way that Jughead had protected her, but still, entirely different.

"What do we take?" Sweet Pea asks once they enter the first office.

Betty spies a bottle of hand sanitizer and can't help but squirt some on her hands before clunking it into the bottom of her bag.

"Everything."

They fill their pillowcases three times over.

Betty selfishly shovels all items into her bag, not taking time to read through bottles or consider that others may try to come here later. It's the end of the world and Betty wants to live. Sure, horse tranquilizers might not seem like something useful right now, but she doesn't want to rule out the possibility that they'll find something for it eventually.

Continuing up the road, they both make the choice not to check out the Child Care facility. They offer up meager jokes but they both know the choice is similar to ignoring a certain room in the Vet clinic.

The Bank on the next street has far better prospects.

And then, after that, it's just a matter of getting into a rhythm. Not every location is as pristine as the Vet's office, as to say that no one had bothered here before. In fact, most places have been picked over at least once, if not more times. However, from the dust collecting on shelves, the last looters weren't recent.

Sometimes they nearly strike out and only find a Snickers, a box of paper clips, and three bullets (along with a whole bunch of other random things Betty insists they take, because she is going to be prepared from here on out) and sometimes they take multiple trips to and from their van.

Sheriff's office, Police Station, local dive bar- actually, multiple bars and liquor stores ("I heard once Wisconsin had eight of the top ten drunkest cities in the US," Sweet Pea says with a gleam in his eyes that is undeniable), gas station, hair salon, auto shop, a smattering of grocery stores, post office, a school or two, some offices of small businesses...basically, they're not picky about it.

The Library turns out to be, very unexpectedly, one of the best locations.

"We have a whole winter to sit inside bored," Betty says, trailing her fingers along the spines, "Think we have enough room in the truck to take the entire lot?"

It's a small town library, but not minuscule. She knows they can't, but Betty is going to try.

"I wish," Sweet Pea snorts, "Idiots." He's lingering overly by the non-fiction instructionals. Sure, a book on how to can food isn't xactly food to can, but it's information, which is surely worth its weight in gold by this point. They mutually agree on the space in the van they'll give books, which is far more generous than one may think, but winter can be a very, very long time.

They start with the non-fiction instruction books. Load up every single one that seems applicable.

Then, they give each other free reign of the library to loot to their heart's content.

It's sort of like a dream come true to Betty. She used to go to Riverdale's library and check out the max allotted books at one time as a child, read them with a fevor, and then do it all again the next week.

She, methodical as always, starts by making piles. Piles of the books she most wants to take, and so on, so that she doesn't miss any novel she's been dying to read. Betty has no qualms switching between genres. Autobiography, comedy, art, fiction romance, historical, thriller- Betty is a connoisseur of anything with text and decides to give herself a wide variety to pick from in the coming months ahead.

"Lordy, hallelujah, we're saved," Sweet Pea says, throwing down some battered CDs at her feet. It's a strange mix of pre-iPod favorites, such as 'That's What I Call Music 6' or a Fall Out Boy disc, but it's something, "No more weird Christian rock. They also have DVD's."

By the time they've decided to break for lunch, sitting on the top of their van and eating a box of stale Ritz with peanut butter, they've cleared out nearly all of the DVD's and CD's, as well as what might be a fourth of the library.

"We should find hobbies, for winter." Betty licks the crumbs from her fingers, "Things so we don't go cabin crazy."

"Redrum." Sweet Pea says in a creepy low voice.

"What?" Betty says, snorting, giving him a confused look.

"I'm agreeing," Sweet Pea says, "Redrum? _The Shining_?" At Betty's vacant gaze, he chokes on his laughter, "Oh, seriously? Jughead never showed you it? He's the type I woulda swore would love that sort of shit."

"I mean, I've heard of it…"

"Luckily for you, we have a copy, thanks to the Niagara Public Library. That movie night will be awesome," Sweet Pea says in a decisive tone.

By mid-day they've picked over the entirely of the town without breaching private homes. It's smaller than Riverdale, and Betty had truly thought no town was more pitiful than theirs. At least theirs had a 7-11, whereas the only gas station here was a strange non-branded one.

"No use going home this early," Sweet Pea says decisively.

It's sweltering. It's at least 80, and combined with the manual labor of lugging items (some, probably heavier than Betty herself) into their truck has made both of them very sweaty. Betty is in just a tank and a pair of shorts, along with ensemble shoes. Her Serpent Jacket is on the driver's seat, but it seems ridiculous to try to wear it. Sweet Pea had been wearing his, but had gotten overheated, which had caused him to not only take off his jacket, but also his flannel, leaving just an undershirt.

She's seen him with less on, but something about the combination of scuffed jeans and a simple white T is driving her mad.

She's happy they have a purpose, a goal here.

Sweet Pea slaps the map against the side of the van.

"So, across state lines is another town, uh, Quinnesec. However, it looks like it's just houses, not much for things. However, up and west, across the border, is Kingsford and Iron Mountain and these look much more promising."

"Well, there it is, then." Betty says, giving a pair of thumbs up.

They're nearly out of town, "Wait!" Sweet Pea yells, causing Betty to slam on the breaks.

"What?" Her voice is frantic.

"We might not come back through town this way. We should...you know, spray paint," He makes an accompanying little 'pfft' sound with it.

"Oh," Betty runs her hands down her face, "Yeah, yep." For people to find them, if anyone they know is still alive.

They go to the center of town, the grocery store. Sweet Pea throws the green spray paint between his palms. They'd always just written, 'Jughead/Betty/Sweet Pea' with some other words in a combination, or 'Sweet Pea and Betty passed here' of more recent times, but this felt different.

"We're here, by all means," Sweet Pea explains out loud exactly what Betty's thinking, "It's not a stop, it's the destination."

The stone wall is large, which is a good thing. Betty swipes the can from his hand, standing back.

The first thing she writes is 'Sweet Pea and Betty' and nothing else. Then, she goes into her pocket and pulls out a piece of paper. It's even laminated with clear duct tape, so not to be ruined.

Even if she nearly forgot while leaving, it's a thought that she didn't forget about at home.

"Directions, so they can find us."

"We can't just write it up there, all sorts of crazies will come knocking," Sweet Pea sends her a horrified look.

"I'm not saying that!" Betty rolls her eyes, "We'll hide it somewhere."

She adds onto the message, 'if you want to find us…', then pauses.

A giggle erupts from. her lips, "I'm going to make it a cipher."

"A what?"

"Like, you know, National Treasure, where the words are all different letters? It's very Nancy Drew." She explains, smiling as she recalls fondly all the letter she'd sent to Polly. At Sweet Pea's still confused expression, she runs through it quickly.

"It will need a keyword to alert the person to which letter they should start with to decode it."

"Riverdale, I'd say. A level of security."

He grabs the can back. He writes as neatly as he can near the side of the message, 'Keyword; the town we're from'. Because, logic stands, that anyone who they want to see would know that answer.

Betty sits down and using a pen and the back of one of the cereal boxes they'd packed away starts to write it.

"You know?" Sweet Pea says, just as she's nearly done switching 'look in the loose brick for instructions' to code, "Someone if they really were adamant about finding us that we don't know could theoretically crack the code without the keyword, if they were super dedicated."

"You're right," Betty sticks the pen in her ponytail.

"Easy fix. We put another layer, another security question, so that only the people we want finding it do." Sweet Pea says. He roots through the front of the van and finds a sharpie. His eyes scan the entry to the supermarket, and Betty can see the thoughts in his brain.

He goes over to the rack of newspaper stands, and very carefully draws a maple leaf, but makes it look like someone didn't just draw it on, but lets the half-torn stickers overlap it and scuffs it up.

"Maybe have it say something like…map to us hidden with Cheryl. So, they won't know it's in a box, they'll think it's a person. But, you get it Cheryl and the Maple Syrup and a maple leaf-,"

"It's brilliant, Sweet Pea!" Betty breathes, nodding, "And you used the sharpie so they didn't just look for the green spray paint, which would have been a huge giveaway. You're brilliant." She amends her thought because she thinks he should hear it more often.

Sweet Pea's whole face is red, "On occasion, I have the intelligent thought."

After all it's said and done, the note (not counting the cipher key at the bottom) says 'Sweet Pea and Betty. If you want to find us...Jrn sm tq bceedk wcsb Vbdpyh.'

And then, they tape the map to the top of the metal box, folded really small, and get back in their car.

"Think anyone will ever find it?" Betty asks. She's filled with visions of Archie or her mom or Moose stumbling upon them.

"I'd like to hope," Sweet Pea replies honestly, "But, at the same time, I don't mind just us."

"Me either."

She knows it's not how it sounds like. Still, the admission sends a tingle down her spine.

XXxxXX

There's two hospitals on their way in, which is a big improvement to what they'd found. It bodes well for the remainder of their day. They agree to stop here last, on their way back out.

Sweet Pea was a good judge; between these two towns, there are many more modern or names of store that Betty is familiar with.

There's a strip mall right near a hospital, with a supermarket, a couple clothing stores, a McDonalds, and two pharmacies all within close range.

In the clothing store, they stock up on winter gear. Betty swipes a coat from a hanger that makes her cough at the price, until she remembers she can take anything she wants here and folds it up for later. She also takes all of the underwear and bras because these are things that aren't remembered, often, but are vitally important. At least, to her.

The pharmacies are mostly empty, to be expected. However, in the town one, they find a small haul. In the Walgreens, they split up.

For this, Betty is thankful.

She goes to the women's section first, very much looking to empty the area of any pads and tampons, because her monthly unwelcome visitor, albeit more spotty of late, isn't going to stop just because it's the apocalypse.

As she's going down the aisle, she hits the 'Family Planning' section.

She spots Sweet Pea's head a couple isles down. Furtively, she looks back up at the array of condoms and morning after pills.

Her arms are swiping across the shelf and grabbing off the hooks before she thinks hard about it.

"It's for later. I mean, if others show up," Betty whispers to herself.

 _Keep telling yourself that, sister_. The sneering voice in her mind sounds a lot like Dark Betty.

Betty locks her jaw, continuing to take medicine and fleece-lined leggings and maybe some makeup, just for fun.

"You good?" Sweet Pea asks, kicking her bag lightly, "You get what you needed to get?"

"Yeah. I think we can move on," Betty says.

She for sure makes sure that she's the one to empty the pillowcases into some of the plastic bins they found, and not Sweet Pea, and she for sure stuffs the condoms and morning after pills in a ball of shirts.

Sweet Pea is outside the truck, just looking out at the town. The way the light is hitting his profile, the casualness of his stance...Betty swallows. She feels butterflies fluttering in her stomach.

One of the condom boxes slips to the floor.

As Betty picks it up, her gaze still on Sweet Pea, she can't help but have that association. The next thing she knows, her mind is overrun with the thought of both of them naked.

 _You wish_ , Dark Mind Betty scoffs.

"Yeah," Betty mutters to herself, "I do."

XXxxXX

By the time they turn back for the hospitals, Betty is satisfied. She feels like they don't even have to bother with personal houses this time, because their haul is so good. They have a lot of things clanking around in the back.

No, not clanking. They've filled this baby up nearly to the brim.

"I'm taking up knitting," Betty informs Sweet Pea, "Among others." She found a small knitting corner store and took a lot of yarn. It's a sensible hobby.

She has some more non-sensible ones. There was a generic art store next to the yarn store and she's always wanted to be a better painter. She's bound determined to learn at least one language fluidly, and picked up a Rosetta Stone set at the library. There's a couple other things too.

She has all the time in the world.

"What about you?" She asks.

"Planting. Working my green thumb. Going to try to grow some stuff inside, and we'll also have things like tomatoes or what have you in mid-winter. Also, music."

"What about music? Listen to every bad album we got?" Betty asks.

"For as much as I enjoy music, frankly love it, I can't play any instruments. I mean, it was a bougie privileged sort of thing to be able to learn it as a kid, and I was too rough for that, but I've always wanted to try. So, I found a guitar and violin. Keyboard too. If we can spare the energy, it's electric so I have headphones on. Dunno what I'll be good at. Also, thought a trombone or something might be too loud. Still, I doubt grabbing that saxophone or French horn or trombone is a priority to most at the end of the world, so I figure we can always come back."

"I look forward to hearing your concerts," Betty teases.

"By the end of winter, you'll be begging me to stop."

XXxxXX

In the way that it's easy to forget that certain wild animals that have lived with humans their whole lives are still wild animals and terribly dangerous, Betty almost forgot that walkers have killed nearly humanity as she knows it.

Well, she hasn't forgot. But, it's been awhile since they've been a true terror.

Tucked away in their cabin, walkers will on occasion get past their many traps and tangle themselves in their fence. Then, Betty or Sweet Pea will kill it. End of story. It's almost an annoyance rather than a terror. She'll get a little jolt of fear if it snaps too close to her, but in all, they've been unspeakably lucky as to not have to deal with a large number of them for at least a month.

All the stores they've been in were small enough to only have one walker thumping around, if at all. The sounds of their van have attacked a few groups, but Betty only sees them in the rear view as they drive away, or wait for them to pass.

In general, there wasn't large populations of these towns to cause a herd in the first place.

Or, so she thinks, until they reach the hospital.

Hospital number one is fine. It's actually sort of a bust, but they don't walk away empty handed. It seemed like it wasn't used much pre-walkers, and is the smaller of the locations.

The next hospital, the one on their way back to the cabin, is much bigger.

Betty is using her flashlight to clear through empty boxes in a closet near a nurse's station. She found a pot of very cold coffee, and it tastes a little off, but she's not necessarily complaining. She had put the half-used bag of coffee beans into her bag already.

She has a Fall Out Boy song stuck in her head. The really popular one where she's not sure what words, if any, the lead singer is saying. It sorta sounds like gibberish. It makes it very inconvenient to have it stuck in her head, so she's not exactly 100% in the headspace of survival mode. She's trying to figure out some lyrics, because she thinks maybe if she can identify just one line this dude is saying, she can get it out of her head.

She blames Sweet Pea for putting that album on in the car. She is much too casual right now, as though this is the cabin. She's breaking her own biggest rule; never turn your back, literally and metaphorically.

Sweet Pea skids around the corner.

"Betty," He whispers frantically, grasping her arms.

"Wha-?"

Sweet Pea slaps his hand over her mouth, his eyes wild as he makes a frantic and sharp shake of his head.

She stiffens. She can hear the moaning and thumping of walkers near. If Sweet Pea didn't kill them, that has to mean that there's too many.

If she hadn't been so caught up, she might have heard it or realized the signs or-

Sweet Pea shakes his head again. He puts a finger to his lips, his other palm still over her lips. Betty tries to carefully set her pillowcase on the floor, as not to alert the group to their location. She unsheathes her knife, holding it close to her.

Sweet Pea pulls her down the hall.

She can see the frustration and terror in his shoulders. They are too straight, too locked. There's a quiver, ever so slight, one that tells Betty just how afraid he is.

This, in turn, makes Betty afraid.

He links his fingers in hers, tugging her down the hall. He almost is at the stairwell, before Betty sees another group of them through the door.

"We're trapped," The words escape her as one big rush, uttered in the softest of tones.

Sweet Pea's look is hard to describe. It's angry, it's sadness, it's terror. He looks younger here, younger than he ever has. It does not escape Betty that as he backs them up, he always puts her farthest from the noise.

"In here, quick," Sweet Pea whispers under his breath, opening a door to one of the cabinets of the nurses station. He shoves Betty in first, motioning for her to lie down. It's a little cramped for her, and there's a shelf right above her, so it's very claustrophobic. It's about to get even more so, as Sweet Pea tucks himself inside too, but not before smearing a walker's guts with a hospital gown all over the front of the cabinet.

He closes the door behind them as softly as he can.

"I have a theory that they use smell," He whispers, his breath warm, "And that maybe, if I make our area smell like walker, they'll pass by. Once they move on to the other end of the hall, we run for it." He says.

Betty is about to reply, but the stairwell and doors open and it's just shuffling of the dead feet.

Betty makes a squeaking noise at the sheer amount of them, not meaning to. Sweet Pea instantly tugs her against him, pressing her nose into his shoulder, quieting her.

From this angle now, Betty can see the walkers through the thin slit of the cabinet doors.

She's not sure who's shaking; her or Sweet Pea. Her knife is between them, but at some point, her grip loosens and she puts her arms around his back. They're both shaking, she comes to conclude. There's no way in hell that if the walkers found them they'd be able to fight their way out of this.

He can't see a thing from this angle, not at least out the way they came in. He could have turned around, his back to her face. Or, she could be in front of him, he could have gotten in first.

This is when she realizes that his hold on her is very deliberate.

He is, once again, _protecting_ her. He'd rather have her curled into his chest and farther from the danger than anything else.

And, well, his hold isn't sexual but it's also not-not sexual.

She's sure that her mind isn't the only mind that always seems to have the dirtiest lyrics on repeat when she's in Church or class, so she's not surprised when her mind jumps—even from the beefiest of seconds- to the way that his front feels molded against her, and how if she tilts her hips forward, she'd be able to feel him, hard or not.

Just as she's contemplating this, a band of walkers come terrifying close to their hiding place.

Sweet Pea must be listening raptly, because he tightens his grip on her. Betty bites into his shoulder to keep from crying out as she sees them approach.

And, that's when it hits her.

She could die like this.

All of their work, all the time they spent, and it could end like this. Others probably came to a similar fate, somewhere.

If the walkers found them, they'd either die from the wounds-going mad at the end- or be descended upon by the hoard and be eaten alive.

It's stupid it takes her this long to realize it. That's the reality of their situation, of this new world. Somehow, she almost let herself believe the world wasn't totally fucked. In their little cabin, she could nearly think that her mom had booked her some weirdo off-the-grid trip in the woods, and she'd go back to the world of Instagram and Facebook soon enough. That there weren't undead cannibals walking the earth. That things were normal.

Nothing was ever going to be normal again.

The smaller group moved on, but they still weren't safe. Betty felt tears spring to her eyes. She had never felt such fear as she did in this moment, not even staring the Black Hood down.

One of Sweet Pea's hands was curled in her hair, and he pulled her closer against him, legs tangling in hers, so there wasn't an inch of space between them. She could hear the frantic beating of his heart, like a hummingbird. Neither of them even dared to breathe louder than normal. If this was it, was she happy with her life? Was she satisfied? Were there things she should have said to others, to Veronica or Archie that night? To Jughead? To her mom, and fucking hell, even her dad? Was there something left unsaid between her and Sweet Pea that- if she was ever going to say them- now would just about be the opportune time?

It seems endless. Limitless. It seems like there's too much to say to him, no possible way to thank him for saving her and staying with her. For being a friend. For being her partner. She doesn't have the time and it kills her, because they had days and days of silence at the safety of the cabin, where she didn't imagine having to say these things to him, at least not now. She thought they'd have time, the long winter, to sort it out. She wishes she could go back to the Betty that was working on the heater even three days ago and shake her, and tell her that she should tell him.

There's a sentiment that, if she's going to start, seems like a good place to do just so. It's quietly intimate, as she considers the words in her head, in the sort of way that if he doesn't feel the same way, it will be easy to brush it aside as friendly goodbyes. However, if he did feel as she did…

She inhales first, as though preparing herself. Then, she speaks.

"If we go, I'm glad I'm not alone," Betty said, her voice a hair above silent air. She was inches from his ear, so he heard. She waits, giving him the moment to reply, so that she knows how to go from here, knows where he stands.

"Betty," She couldn't see his face, but his voice was rough, "I…" For a moment, it seemed like he was going to say more. It's hard to see him, there's only a small amount of light casting into their cabinet, but Sweet Pea looks more unsure of himself than he ever has. Then, he quieted. Betty strained, begging for him to continue. The next action he took was abrupt.

"Go, go!" He was shoving her out of the cabinet. Betty skidded onto the floor in a daze, before Sweet Pea was grabbing her up, "Run!" He said in a whisper-yell.

Betty didn't need to be told twice. The pair booked it down the other end of stairs, dodging a few strangler walkers. Betty didn't even bother going for her pillowcase. She didn't even catch her breath, not truly, for a long time. Not in the car, not out of the city, not even when they were back in their driveway. It wasn't until they were inside, door locked, that they collapsed into each other.

Betty tried to hold back her hiccuping sobs, but failed miserably.

"Hey, hey," Sweet Pea said, but he was still shaking all over, "We're _home_. We're safe now."

"I never want to leave again," Betty croaked.

"Yeah, me either," Sweet Pea said, "That was a close one."

Not much else needed to be said on the topic.

As Sweet Pea continued to rub soft circles on her back, Betty just replayed a mantra in her mind.

 _We're safe, we're safe, we're safe…._

Not unexpectedly, it didn't really feel like it.

* * *

 **Things couldn't be too comfortable forever, right ;)**

 **I spent WAY more time than probably normal creeping on the Google Maps of Niagara WI and looking up shops and stuff, as well as trying to get layouts XD I mean, I know this is a zombie story, but I still wanted to be realistic!**

 **But damn how do you all like that UST?**

 **Sorta just a reminder, even though we're only getting Betty's POV on stuff, remember that Sweet Pea is making this apocalypse playlist that is the song titles, so HE picked out 'I Will Follow You Into the Dark'...take that how you will!**

 **I think you all will very much enjoy the next chapter I have planned. Won't say much more than that, other than reviews will make me update much faster!**


	11. Track Ten: Dancing Queen (Vaporwave)

**HEHEHEHE THIS CHAPTER YA'LL! THIS CHAPTER :)**

 **As always, thank you so so so much to my wonderful reviewers: Evelyn Santos01, and the five guest reviews!**

 **Guest (1): You will get your wish ;)**

 **Guest (2): That was by far like one of the most tense action scenes I've ever written! Whew...**

 **Guest (4): Probably because Sweet Pea/Betty is like one of the most cracky crack ships there is. Oh well! I will write them until i DIE**

* * *

 **Song for this Chapter is Dancing Queen, the remix by Vapor-Wave. Not that I don't love the ABBA one, but I promise you this version just fits so much better!**

* * *

September 16th, 2018

They crawl into bed not long after, but it should have been clear from the start that neither were calm enough to sleep. Too keyed up. Betty still has her jeans from the day on, instead of PJs, a hallmark of unease that hasn't been used since they found this haven. She knows a walker has never gotten inside, but the idea that one might, and the stench of the hoard from the hospital every time she closes her eyes…

She swallows hard.

Sweet Pea is even more on edge. He still has his shoes on. Betty would bitch him out about it, but tonight, maybe they all need this. She can wash sheets. She can't put a price on the feeling of safety.

They lie there in the dark silence for what feels like hours, Betty staring at the ceiling.

"You awake?" She finally asks.

"Yeah. Haven't even gotten a minute." He groans, pressing his palms to his sockets.

It's not like they have a full day ahead of them tomorrow. Most pressing task is to unload the food from the van. Heck, the books could sit there nearly until winter for all they care.

"Let's face it. Neither of us is sleeping," Betty flops onto her side, staring at him. Or, his figure, since it's very dark.

"We could take shifts, like before," Sweet Pea whispers.

"Or, we could accept it and pull an all-nighter. Sooner or later we'll be tired enough, and then we'll sleep then." Betty argues, standing up, having already made the choice. She pats her pockets as she fishes for a flashlight.

She chuckles.

"What?" Sweet Pea asks.

"I have the lists," Betty says, pulling out the papers with a crinkle, "That we made. Wish Lists, more or less. Not like it's before, when we could just pull up to a Target and hit every item. Maybe one would be sold out, if we were unlucky. In mean, in Riverdale, Mason Jars and fruit was always sold out it seemed," She muses, setting the flash light between them. There is, definitively, a space that lies between Sweet Pea and Betty that hasn't really been touched. It's a King bed, more than enough space for Betty to stay on her side and Sweet Pea on his. Tonight, Betty thinks 'fuck it' with the gap.

A part of her just doesn't want to feel alone tonight.

She holds the flashlight in her lips as she settles herself right onto that dead zone on the bed. She grabs her favorite pillow and fluffs it, laying it right touching Sweet Pea's pillow. There's maybe six inches between the pair of them. It still feels like too little, but she's not about to jump his bones, she just wants to be near him.

Using the small light, she unfolds her own list first.

"We'll have to do a proper look tomorrow or in this next week, but we sorta know what we grabbed, and more specifically, what we didn't find." She says. She pulls a red felt-tip marker from her nightstand, and together then begin to comb through the list.

They didn't get a lot of things associated with farms, since they didn't hit up a farm. The question lies between them (Should they go back out again?), but both aren't too keen on leaving again, not without a very good, possibly life-or-death reason.

Firewood is something they can do themselves. It will take work, but they're in a forest. They have trees upon trees at their fingertips.

They didn't find a sewing machine, but they do have needles and thread. Betty can't recall how much salt they find. That will change what they can do with certain things, namely the smokehouse.

"Real talk, though. Did we get chlorine?" Sweet Pea says. Just like that, their anxiety starts to melt away. Betty can literally feel her shoulders unlock.

"Yes, yeah. I found some gallons in the Vet's." Betty confirmed.

"Hot tub?" Sweet Pea asks helpfully.

"After the day we've had, I feel like the answer has to be yes. Eventually." She adds, "It's still hot out. Who wants to go in a hot hot tub?"

"Me?" Sweet Pea guffaws.

"It will take lots of energy to power it up, so only for special occasions. Therefore, we should wait until fall or winter." Betty points out.

They hit less items from Sweet Pea's list.

No tractor, no pets. No fish, no boat. No grain crusher, but that was a specific wish. They can make one, they decide, to the best of their ability. He apparently did grab board games, which will be good.

"Dammit! I forgot a banjo." Sweet Pea bemoaned, and Betty stifled a giggle.

"I think I might be fine with the exclusion of that." She says.

"Oh, c'mon. If we're going redneck, we might as well go full-on redneck." Sweet Pea says.

"With your cut-off flannels and dubious bathing schedule, you're halfway there." Betty is laughing so hard it almost hurts.

"All I need now is a beer, a gun to kill an animal, and to be kissing my cousin."

"Eww, Penny?" Betty gags at the thought.

"Shit," Sweet Pea shudders, "Forgot that's her. Yuck, nope. Can't do it. Not even pretend. Not a redneck." He pouts, "I'll be country. With, you know, trains...trucks...prison...getting drunk."

"Yeah, that is country."

"It's a reference," Sweet Pea said, "Really? Not that one either? God, did you grow up under a rock, Cooper?" He asks, launching himself out of bed to grab his iPhone.

"Uhm, yeah. Pretty much. You met my mom?" Betty asks, "I still technically wasn't allowed to listen to explicit songs. At sixteen. My computer still had sites of 'adult content' blocked out."

"Whereas me, I saw my first porn video at age ten," Sweet Pea said off-handedly, "I thought it was gross, by the way. Don't want you thinking I'm some weirdo."

"Oh, me think that about you?" Betty grinned ear to ear, "Never."

Sweet Pea absently flipped her the bird as he scrolled, "Okay, okay. You've never heard the song 'You Never Even Called Me By My Name'?"

Betty shook her head.

He put up the volume, setting it on the end of the bed.

"Are you going to dance?" Betty asked, not knowing where that question came from ,"I mean, I danced, the Serpents...and at the Lodge Lodge…" she trailed off, feeling really stupid.

"It's not really a 'dancing sexy stripper' song." Sweet Pea tilted his head, "But I have those sorts. Do you have ones to throw at me?"

"First I have to see if you're worth my ones." Betty sat on her haunches.

"Shh! You're gunna miss the song," Sweet Pea quieted her. She pursed her lips, smiling, throwing up her hands in an 'I'll be quiet' motion.

After the song was done, and it was a very country song, Betty decided, Sweet Pea flopped back down next to her.

"I guess you're not getting my ones," She teased, but also a little glad she didn't have to see Sweet Pea stripping right now and figure out her feelings on the spot.

"I think at this point, your ones are my ones. This is all very domestic, you see," he said, waving his hands in front of him, "Like a married couple or something."

Betty almost said, 'but without the sex', but had the good forethought to bite down on her tongue hard. Where was all this coming from? She was usually better than these near slips!

"Ever imagine yourself married?" Betty asked quietly, taking it in a different direction.

"Dunno. My life attracted a lot of girls who wanted a bad boy. Bad girls, or prissy girls who woulda dumped me not long after," He thought about it, "I'm eighteen. Some people are getting married, but that just seems so far off. Christ, I've never had a stable relationship. Just one-night stands, or a couple friends with benefits."

"Jughead was my first...well, first everything," Betty corrects herself, thinking hard.

"But you would have married him?"

"If things were good, if the world didn't end," Betty's not pretending she wouldn't.

"You said you're not a virgin, right?" Sweet Pea's question comes from left-field.

"Yes, I mean, no, I mean…" The question flustered Betty, "I have had sex."

"But you said your mom wouldn't let you get on dirty sites or whatever," Sweet Pea put his hand behind his head, "So…"

"I know how to get around her parental locks. I'm seventeen, Sweets," Betty scoffs, "And much more technologically skilled than her or my dad. And maybe if they'd been more open about it, Polly wouldn't have gotten pregnant. Said that to my mom once in a fight."

"Oof, sure that went over well."

Betty gave a dry laugh, "Yeah. As in, not at all. But, I dunno, it was lots of experimenting with Jug. About what we liked. Both of us. I'm not stupid thought. I know A goes in B and all that jazz." She said, feeling less awkward to be discussing this with Sweet Pea as she would have thought, "I think , since both of us had no clue what we were doing, it made it better. I didn't feel self-conscious about my lack of knowledge because I had more, because I study and look things up. If I'd been with a guy who was experienced…" She made a weighing motion, "I might have figured it out faster, but I would have felt totally unsure the whole time."

"I have far less experience than I think I present myself to have," The admission came out quietly, all at once, "I've only had sex with like six people."

"Five more people than I have." Betty blew out.

"But people think I'm a sex god or something. I'm still fumbling too. Guys have it easier. If it gets us off, we like it. But, I haven't experimented much. Basic stuff."

Betty tries not to laugh, but she can't help it.

"What?" He asked sharply.

"It's just...god, um," Betty thought of her darker side, Dark Betty. About camming. About handcuffs, "Nothing, nothing."

Sweet Pea sits up, eyes gleaming, "My god. Is Betty Cooper secretly kinky? Oh, it's always the quiet ones." He looks pleased as punch.

"Oh my god," Betty covers her whole face, rolling away.

"It's so true! You are? Like, what? Choking? Whipping? Are you a dominatrix?" He whispers, getting more excited, "Pleases tell me Jug likes getting slapped around. For all his Alpha posturing, you're the one with the pants on. If I slapped him, would he have gotten a boner?"

"God, Sweets! I don't know that" Betty is entirely red now, "I guess, a little? I mean, I had to have an outlet somewhere…"

"I can so see it. You kinda run this house too. I can respect that. I was raised around a bunch of strong women."

And, just like that, the conversation dips away from sex things. Which, maybe, is for the better, considering Betty had nearly been about to ask Sweet Pea if he'd like to see in person her kinky tendencies. But this wasn't the time. The conversation, though about sex, wasn't sexy in itself. It was more informational, casual...fun, almost. Not the right time and place.

Especially, Betty thinks as an afterthought, after so much discussion of Jughead, and so casually. Like he was an ex, a tragic ex-boyfriend, and not someone she'd lost. Once again, as though this life was normal.

But you make it normal, she thinks. As normal as one can.

XXxxXX

September 18, 2018

Back when Betty was younger, her family took a trip across the country. Due to time-changes and airplanes, when they returned home, even though it was hardly 10am, they were very jet lagged. Her mother just told everyone to go to sleep and Betty fell asleep in her bed with the morning sun streaming in, the rest of Riverdale awakening to a new day.

That's sort of how the next morning follows. Her and Sweet Pea lapse into a quiet companionship, eventually reading books until the sun is high. Their adrenaline from their near deaths is wearing off and the night sinks away into a beautiful new morning. They both unload the bins that have food and both promptly fall asleep.

It's one of the best sleeps Betty's had in a very long time. It feels effortless. It feels stress-free. It's wonderful.

Their schedule is a little messed up after that. Technically, they lose a whole day. The seventeenth of September? Just straight up gone.

Maybe it's okay. They deserve a day to collect their bones back together and re-adjust.

Betty dreams of...Riverdale.

She doesn't dream much. She never has. It used to bother her. Of late, it's just better, since she thinks her dreams would be nightmares if they were anything.

Tonight, or rather today, she dreamed of home. Or, of her old home, since when she thinks of home now, she thinks of the cabin. She thinks of her workspace, where she tinkers with electronics and has all the instruction manuals spread out before her. She thinks of Sweet Pea in the fields, his hands stained with dirt, and how he cooks them dinner. She thinks of his impromptu dance parties with music she's never heard of. She thinks of the smell of pine trees. She thinks of here.

When Sweet Pea had told her they were home the other day, from his tone, she knows he's made this change in his mind too.

But, all tangents aside, she dreams of Riverdale and her old street corner.

It's not an earth-shattering dream. It's not even a weird dream, the one where she opens doors that leads to bathtubs or frogs speak or some other strange connection made. No, in fact, it's fairly...normal. So normal, it almost feels like a memory.

It could be. It's just of her life. Her life pre-walkers, pre-apocalypse. Pre-Sweet Pea, to be honest. It's actually no set time, nothing specific, but she gets the feel of when it probably is set in.

She's just on her street. Archie and Jughead are in Archie's yard, playing with Vegas. Mr. Andrews is cooking a BBQ dinner on the grill. Her dad is helping him; they're laughing about something. Her mom is inside, talking to Polly, as they make lemon-aid. Veronica and Betty sit on her steps leading up to her house. Veronica is talking about something, but come waking, Betty won't remember. It's something nice and safe. Archie perhaps? Maybe singing. Maybe schoolwork.

Then, people start showing up. It's a whole block party. That's maybe the only strange thing about it; how this dream has shoved so many people from Betty's old life into this dream that, in truth, felt short.

So many people Betty has forgotten about until right about now.

Moose and Midge. Kevin and his dad. Josie and the Pussycats. Reggie and a whole group of Bulldogs, playing a pick-up football match. They've roped Jughead into it. He's smiling, though Jughead would never willingly play, much less laugh about it. The Blossoms are even there; all four of them. Jason is alive. He's flirting with Polly. Dilton and Benji and Ethel are over there, eating hamburgers and dancing.

It's nothing special, this dream. It's just a cook-out set on a summer's day. There's a timeless tinge to it, like old movies. It's freeing, it's simple, it's just a happy dream.

When Betty awakens, she stumbles to the bathroom and slams the door behind her, pressing her mouth across her lips.

It doesn't mean anything, she tells herself. Sweet Pea probably buys into dream meanings, but Betty does not.

Still, she cannot help the tears that prickle in the back of her eyes, because she's been shoving away those memories. Maybe her brain decided it was time to let them out.

"Betty? You okay?" Sweet Pea's voice is so concerned outside the door.

Betty swallowed. She splashed some icy water on her cheeks.

"Yes," Her voice cracked, but she opened the door all the same, "Just, felt sick for a second."

She obviously noticed her dream had no Serpents, which was stupid. The Serpentes are important to her. But, still…

The dream clings to her.

Half-way through the day, as they're unloading the tubs, Betty gets why it's bothering her.

It's because, while that life would have once been what she wanted, she no longer wants that life. She wants this life, with Sweet Pea. Even if someone came to her and and said they could turn back the clock and give her that, but Sweet Pea wouldn't know her and never would (or, they'd pass each other like ships in the night, in a world where she stayed with Jughead and was Serpent-Adjacent), Betty is sure she wouldn't trade it in. And that thought terrifies her.

She managed to be the one to unload the condoms and morning after pills. She stores those deep in her own personal box. As far as she knows, Sweet Pea didn't see.

All the discussion of house and belonging and normality, especially looking at the morning after pills, gives her pause. Condoms aren't just for preventing kids, but the morning after pills definitely are.

If things never go right, if things are always sideways...is this a possibility for them one day?

She can't think about that right now. She doesn't want to. She's seventeen. She for sure does. not want to be pregnant any time soon. She is very grateful, she decides, she has grabbed those.

They manage to get half the truck unloaded and organized before they stop for the day.

"Betty?"

"Hmm?" Betty said, sitting cross-legged and sifting through books and wondering the best way to organize them.

"I got you something."

Betty snapped her head up. "Really?"

"Really," Sweet Pea handed her a box, full of nail polish and other nail accessories, "There was a nail place near that Walgreens. Um, it reminded me of that story. About Veronica and the manicures. I mean, it's not someone else doing it, but it might help. Plus, you said you just liked having it done, so…" he shrugs, rubbing the back of his head.

Betty is moved, nearly to tears.

"Sweets, I...god." She says. It's so thoughtful. She hadn't even thought about that, though she'd seen the Nail place too, but it had been gone from her mind as she thought about other things. Admittedly, it had probably been that she was thinking about Sweet Pea naked.

She managed to get ahold of herself, "I actually got something for you too. Nothing like this," She added, feeling like her small thing was just so lacking in comparison, even if she hadn't known he was doing this.

She had been waiting to give it to him, but now seems like a good time. She held out about eight packets of seeds.

Sweet Pea took a look at the title and threw his head back, laughing.

Sweet Pea flowers.

"We'll plant them everywhere around us, the whole fucking house," He decided, acting like she'd given him gold or something, "So that there's no denying who lives here. Goddamn, if wish your name was a flower too. That would be poetic, huh."

"You could make my nickname a flower," Betty pointed out.

"No, no. Your nickname has to be organic, though I like that thought," He said, "I'm working on it, Cooper!"

"I didn't even know your name was a flower, until I saw that," Betty admitted, albeit a little bit embarrassed.

"I didn't until I was eight and a classmate asked why I was named after a girly prissy thing. I showed him exactly how prissy I was when I gave him a bloody nose." Sweet Pea recalled with a prideful smile.

"Sweet Pea!"

"Well, he deserved it, clearly," Sweet Pea scoffed, "I mean, he obviously doesn't hate me, since that was Joaquin way back when."

Sweet Pea looked down at the packs. The smile on his face never faltered. The sheer joy over packets of seeds makes Betty grin in turn.

"You know, Sweet Pea Flowers are sorta pretty…" She said with a mischievous grin.

"You calling me pretty, Cooper?"

"If the flower fits," Betty enunciated her words carefully. Sweet Pea gave a tooth grin.

"Fine. I'm pretty. I wont punch you."

"Because I'm a girl?"

"For your information, I have knocked Toni flat on her ass. No, not because you're a girl. Because, well, I like you so I'll take it. Just don't tell anyone," He said in a stage-whisper, "Don't want to ruin my reputation."

"Oh, damn. Guess I can't run and tell that family of deer outside," Betty waved her arms around, "Who's there to tell?"

"True, Coop. True."

XXxxXX

September 19th, 2018

Without the prospect of certain death staring them down, Betty wasn't as sure about mentioning her feelings. If they were about to die and Sweet Pea didn't like her, she'd only be disappointed for a moment. If she said it now and he didn't, it would just make things entirely awkward.

Could she risk that?

There were moments when she was sure he was flirting with her. There were moments when she thought she was making it all up and he was just being nice.

Of course, she tells herself, past Betty might be kicking her. This was the same thing she'd been thinking about before nearly dying. That she doesn't want to wait until they're nearly dying again to say what she should say.

And, if anything, didn't the trip show her how fragile time was? How they could die at any second, especially here?

But, what was her emotions for Sweet Pea? Well, frankly, she wanted fuck him.

Did she love him beyond that…?

She wasn't entirely sure. But, she knew it was a crush. More than a crush. Less than love. Was that worth telling someone about?

She decided, perhaps cowardly, until she was sure of it, to not say anything.

Then, for a second, she's a bit disgusted with herself. She is Elizabeth Cooper! She has actively hunted down two killers, at least! She does not shy away from love declaration.

And that, simply, is that.

She will tell him.

XXxxXX

September 20th, 2018

Finding the right time to tell him is difficult.

It's not something Betty wants to blurt out over the dinner table, or while the pair of them organize their food stash and argue about if cans should be stacked or put on their side.

She imagines it, the discussion.

"Sweets, you're just wrong if you think that cans should be stored anyway but stacked, and oh by the way, I think I might want to jump your bones and be nauseatingly cute with you."

Or,

"Hey, this corn is super good, is that a new spice on there? I think that's a winner. On the topic, but not really, I might be falling for you. Like in love."

At least, she considers, it would be over quick. Like a bandaid.

It was easy with Jughead. He kissed her first. She had only a couple days of wondering if he liked her the way she liked him before he made the first move. She didn't have to agonize about the possible outcomes, good and bad, while she was hyper-actively looking for the moment to tell him.

She thinks it will garner a discussion. She doubts it will just be Sweet Pea saying 'cool' and nothing else. Therefore, nights and mornings are out. Best choice is to mabe grab him in between tasks.

She's stalling. She knows she is. She knows there have been hundreds of times but she cannot possibly just get her lips to move.

She's making a much bigger deal about it. Hyping herself up. Like going to the doctor and getting a shot; the anticipation is worse than the event.

XXxxXX

September 21st, 2018

"Dammit all!" She heard Sweet Pea cursing from the van. The temperature has dropped about 15 degrees, according to their trusty thermostat sitting right outside the front door. However, 65 still isn't cold. It's downright comfortable, in Betty's opinion. Still, they're fearful that this might be a trend, and so they've been busting their asses all day to get out the last stragler boxes from the van.

"You okay? You hurt?" Betty popped her head in. Sweet Pea is one of the most accident-prone people she's ever met. In unloading the van, he's cut his hand no less than three times.

"No, just sad," He pouted. He stood over a crate, "I just cracked a whole crate of wine."

Betty hopped in, helping him lift the cardboard box. It's only a little damp, but there are at least four bottles that have fissures or cracks now.

Sweet Pea ends up pouring the four bottles of champagne into one big vat.

"Give me a second to pay my respects," Betty said, putting a hand over her heart. Then, she went to tip the barrel over.

"Woah, woah! Hey, what gives?" Sweet Pea said, and all but shoved her onto her butt.

"Uhm, dumping it out? We don't have a way to store it."

"Betty Cooper," Sweet Pea pinched the bridge of his nose, "Alcohol is one day going to be a rare commodity. It's rare to us now, at our ages of seventeen and eighteen. We are not going to dump this out!"

"Then what are we going to do with it?" Betty asked, snorting, "Bathe in it?"

"We should celebrate your birthday. Belatedly," Sweet Pea looks to the bin of fizzing drinks, "Properly."

"You're saying we should drink four bottles worth in one night?" Betty felt a headache just imagining it.

"Spoil sport! C'mon, I bet you can count on your hand the number of times you've gotten drunk," He goaded.

"Yes." Betty held up a single finger.

"You mean at Lodge Lodge?"

Betty nodded, her neck flushed.

"Well, let's remedy that. I'll be your sober-ish companion. My tolerance is leagues above yours. For every three glass you have, I'll have one." He said, "Aren't you always the one saying 'waste-not, want-not'?"

Betty is a little pissed that he's caught her with her own words. She made him keep a loose thread from his shirt the other day, because who knows how long thread will be just lying around?

"Well," She begun softly, "I never really got to celebrate my birthday." And, chances are, if she'd been back in Riverdale, Veronica would have insisted on some ostentatious party where there would have been alcohol anyway.

"Perfect!" Sweet Pea went to the cabinet, and dipped two glasses into the tub, "Bottoms up!"

"But, but...the rest of the van," Betty sputtered.

"Yeah. We'll do that. Or, just put it in the entrance. Not organizing medical supplies won't kill us. We have tomorrow. And the next, and the next, and the next."

His grin once again gave Betty flutters.

She thinks to herself it will be far easier to tell him with a little liquid courage, therefore, she finishes the first glass of champagne in one gulp.

She is Betty-fucking-Cooper. She has this.

XXxxXX

They hurry to bring the rest of the items in. By glass three, Betty is already feeling a little bit floaty, like she's walking on air. It makes her sort of giggly.

"I love seeing people's drunk-alters," Sweet Pea told her, "Everyone is different and you can never guess it until you get someone drunk. Toni? She's the type that starts getting really touchy-feely, all, 'Have I ever told you how much I love you Sweets? Oh I just love our friendship' and all the things she'd never say sober. Fangs always feels like he's overheated and tries to take his clothes off."

He tells Betty he's sorta an angry drunk. Well, not abusive drunk, but he wants to fight things. He finds fighting things fun when drunk. You ask him to participate in a boxing match while drunk? Sweet Pea is all over that. He wants to hit things.

"That sounds like normal Sweet Pea," Betty quipped, thinking of how he was always the first one throwing a fist in tense situations.

"I go looking for fights when drunk, and do it laughing," He explained.

"How often did you get drunk?"

"It's not like the Wyrm was carding," Sweet Pea shrugged.

For dinner, they heat, over the microwave, a can of Spaghetti-O's and have a granola bar each. Betty, even fuzzy feeling, knows soon they'll have to start hunting and canning and preserving. Their dry-food is supposed to be emergency only. Caught and picked food is supposed to sustain them. She makes a reminder to think about this later.

"Oh, nope. I can see your mind whirling. Drink." Sweet Pea shoved another glass under her nose, "No survivalist planning."

"Fine. But remind me tomorrow that we have to start hunting." Betty narrows her eyes. Sweet Pea had accused her of not being able to let go earlier in the day, which she protested. She was going to show him. Betty Cooper could have fun. Betty Cooper could let loose.

And she should! This was her birthday celebration, albeit a month and a handful of days late.

"Noted." Sweet Pea said, "Now, chug, chug, chug…"

At her sixth glass of wine, Betty Cooper lets her hair out of her ponytail and throws her jacket off.

At her eight glass of wine, Betty insists Sweet Pea make a playlist of songs for her birthday. Club music only. Things that Veronica would would squeal when it came on and drag Betty onto a dance floor while insisting 'this is our song, girl!'. Songs that Betty Cooper, excuse me- sober Betty Cooper would feel really awkward dancing to. Songs like that. Sweet Pea holds up his hand, and Betty becomes a backseat DJ, pointing at titles on his iPod that always made her say 'they play this on the radio?' when she'd listen to the lyrics.

"Do you just want to make the playlist?" Sweet Pea finally asks, but his eyes were bright.

"No, oh no, no," Betty stumbles, "You're the music master."

"That I am. So can it. God, you're a lightweight."

The playlist, as far as Betty remembered, was very good. She still thinks her additions were what made it, though.

At her ninth glass of wine...that's around the time that Betty's attention span is that of a squirrel and she is sure she won't remember this the next morning. This worries her, since she hasn't told Sweet Pea the things that need to be said,and maybe she should do it soon. Then, the thought is gone, and Betty doesn't care because already, she does not remember.

They're playing a two-person drinking game with cards. Since Betty is super drunk at this point and it's all about reflexes, she had the thought it as terribly unfair. And, everytime that he wins a point, Betty has to take a shot of the wine. It's getting down to the bottom of the barrel, maybe two or three glasses left. For sure drinkable. It had seemed like Everest at the beginning of the night. She's sure she's had most of that. Sweet Pea hardly seems different at all. He might even basically be sober.

"Betty? Hey, two more shots," Sweet Pea snapped a finger in front of her face. He flashed his winning cards in front of her face, catching her attention.

Betty lets her cards fall. She stumbled over the couch, taking the most direct route instead of going around it like a normal, sober person.

"Sweet Pea! It's raining." She gasps, looking out at their little yard with the chicken-wire.

"Uhm, yeah. It has been for the last hour." Sweet Pea snorted.

"It's raining!" Betty repeated.

"Yes…?"

"We need to go outside." Betty says with as much seriousness as she can muster. She isn't sure why, but she has to go outside, "Bring the iPod!" She yells back, throwing open the door.

The rain is just cool enough to feel good on her warm, exposed skin. The whole night is actually perfect. It's not too cloudy, not too windy, not too cold. It's like something out of a cheesy Hallmark-movie, the ones Polly would make her watch and always cry at the end.

Betty threw off her shoes, walking to the center of the field. She squished her toes in the mud, feeling gleeful and so unlike herself. Sweet Pea watched from the front porch, stifling his laugher behind a hand.

He set his iPod on a dry table under the awning.

The current song- Low by T-Pain faded out, and the next song on felt like fate.

Oooh, you can dance! You can jive!

"Sweets! Look, it's perfect," Betty said, "I am the Dancing Queen! I'm seventeen!"

"You have told me directly, on more than one occasion, that you do not dance," Sweet Pea was giving her a weird look.

"Betty Cooper might not dance," Betty corrected, spinning around in a couple circles, "But my drunk-alter, uhm, how did you say you did it? Cetty Booper? She is the Dancing Queen. See?" She tried to be like a ballerina. Her mother had put her and Polly in dance lessons at the age of five. Betty had stayed in it for about four years before deciding it wasn't for her. She doubted she still had access to all the forms, but maybe, if she thought really hard…

"Oh, yeah, yep. I was totally mistaken." Sweet Pea gave a slow clap.

Betty stopped her spinning, which was good since she was feeling a wee bit nausieated now, holding out an accusatory finger, "I feel like you're being sarcastic. But I can't tell. I think I'm tipsy."

"I think you're totally shit-faced, Cooper."

"Stop just standing there like a log, Sweets-,"

"Do you maybe mean like a tree?"

"I mean like a log," She had meant tree, but she wasn't going to tell him that, "I say what I mean and I mean what I say. Come on. Be my dancing king," She pleaded.

"Well, how can I say no to that?" He scoffed. Sweet Pea shook off his leather jacket, leaving it next to his iPod and coming out. Betty grabbed his arm, and he danced with her. They must have looked like idiots out there in the rain, pretending like it was normal.

"Oh, gosh," Sweet Pea pushed the hair from his eyes, "I can't remember the last time I danced," He breathed once the song stopped.

Betty gasped, for some reason, finding this very unacceptable, "You don't dance?"

"No. We've had multiple conversations about this, Betty," he reminded with a grin.

"Well, why'd you come out then?"

He shrugged uneasily, sticking his hands in his soaked jean pockets, "Dunno. You asked me to."

Tell him, tell him!

Betty licked her lips, but all her words suddenly seemed lost on her. She couldn't remember how to speak. But it was imperative she tell him. This was that grand moment she'd been searching for!

So, Betty did the next best thing to convey to him how she felt.

She grabbed his head, pulled him down, rose up on the balls of her feet, and kissed him.

XXxxXX

Sweet Pea will tell anyone who asks that he is sort of a selfish person.

He was born and raised on the wrong sides of the tracks. He is a little rough around the edges and was taught from a very young age two truths that have served him well; never say no when someone is giving you something you want and if they aren't giving it, take it.

It takes a milliscent for Sweet Pea to realize that Betty Cooper is kissing him, and only another to respond back.

He knows that a do-gooder like Archie or Jughead would have pushed Betty away. She was maybe too drunk to be thinking straight. But he wasn't the one who kissed her, you see. She'd kissed him. And, he has a theory about drunk Betty. Drunk Betty is not haunted by her strict upbringings. Drunk Betty, as proven the entire night, only does what Drunk Betty want and nothing more. She's stubborn like that, in way that equally infuriates him but also sets his blood on fire.

Sweet Pea does not push her away. He pulls her closer.

He grabs onto her hair with one hand, the other tugging on her cami (which, lucky him, is practically see-through in the rain), to encourage Betty to all but climb on top of him.

He's been thinking about her like this for awhile now.

Awhile now? Scratch that. That doesn't even cut it. He's wanted Betty since she was with Jughead, since the world wasn't overrun by undead cannibals. Back then, it was purely sexually. He for sure imagined the one-off time where maybe Jughead and Betty would be off-again in their light-switch relationship and he'd be there to comfort her, or something like that.

Now? Well…

Here's a truth. Sweet Pea's never been in love. That's how he's pretty-nearly-almost sure he might be falling in love with Betty. He's just never felt how he feels about her with anyone else.

He's selfish, as already established. He'd be the first one to trip Toni if a bear was about to maul them and it was just a matter of one being faster than the other, which is not something he likes to admit.

Yesterday, though? Damn, son, he'd been willing to die first. He was purposely putting himself in harm's way, just so Betty had a chance to stay alive. He'd lay down his fucking life for her, and this means a lot to him. It's not sisterly-Serpents protect each other bullshit either. This, he thinks, this could be real.

Yesterday, while cowering together and considering that they might die, they were uncomfortably close. 'Uncomfortable' being the key word, in the sense that if he was literally at any inch of a level below 'oh my god this could be the end', it would have been very awkward very quick. As it was, while one part of him was praying that they'd live to see another day, another-albeit very small part of his mind- was praying he wasn't going to pop a boner right then.

Sweet Pea is a guy. He thinks about sex. He thinks about it a lot. And, sue him, one fleeting thought in that cabinet was that he totally regretted that he hadn't had a go at it with Cooper, and also that there were a lot of things he was sure he was going to come out and say to her, like a total softie.

When Betty had bit down on his shoulder, even though he knew it was so she didn't make noise, oh man.

But he hadn't wanted to bring it up directly after. Both of them were so spooked, it didn't seem right. They were both just thanking their lucky stars they survived the day.

He'd been sure that her little admision had meant so much more than she was letting on, the words she'd said to him in the darkness of the hospital, awaiting an excruciating death.

But he was a guy. He was dense. Unless Betty Cooper came dancing near naked up next to him, he couldn't be sure.

So he thought, until he'd stumbled across her box of...well, party favors.

He'd been absentmindedly opening crates, when he'd noticed an array of sweaters folded very strangely in a box with a lot of things from Walgreens. So, he'd investigated.

Imagine his surprise when he'd found a whole stockpile of condom and morning after pills.

He'd wrapped them back up exactly, shut the box, and then sat on the lid of it in the shadows of the moving van. Then, he'd bit the area between his pointer and thumb hard, willing his very aggressive erection to vanish before Betty returned back to the van to grab another box. He thought of Fangs' grandmother naked, a true and unfortunate sight he'd had the displeasure to see once. He thought of FP yelling at him for something stupid. He thought of Jughead naked. Ah-ha, that did it.

And then, that first night, he had to change the subject in the bed or else he was going to show Betty more than he bargained for right now. The idea of Kinky Betty? Sign him the fuck up.

If he wasn't entirely sure, he was more than sure now.

Betty sort of tackled him, shoving him down into the grass. He was soaked, but who cared? Betty Cooper was kissing him like he was water, and she was in a desert. This hadn't been his intention, by the way, to loosen Betty up enough for her to kiss him or make a move. He'd just wanted her to have a good time and not waste that perfectly good champagne. This was just an added bonus, the best end to her celebration.

Betty detached from his, breathing hard.

"Betty, do you think-,"

His questions of perhaps moving to the bedroom (and doing everything but sleeping) was cut off as Betty moaned. Not a sexy moan, a sick moan.

"Sweets, I don't feel so good." She whimpered.

He helped her up, "Hey, that's fine, let's just...goddamnit," he cussed as Betty promptly threw up, sort of all over his clothes and her own. To be honest, he should have seen this coming. He felt stupid he didn't.

"I'm so sorry!" Betty gasped, but she still looked a little green.

"No problem, no problem," He grumbled. He helped her inside, into the bedroom. He helped her peel off her shorts and tank-top, throwing them in a bin to deal with tomorrow. Betty was now in just her bra and underwear, but in the exact worse scenario that lead up to it.

As much as he so desperately wanted to go further...not tonight.

Nothing killed the mood like vomit.

He found Betty a bucket, putting it by the bed. He went into the bathroom, stripped off his own shirt, and proceeded to hit his head against the wall a few times.

His momma had always said that he was unlucky.

He was pretty sure no truer words had been said.

* * *

 **MWAHAHHAHAHHAAA**

 **So, now, as for notes**

 ***First and most foremost, RIP Luke Perry. If you haven't heard, the actor that plays Fred Andrews died yesterday from a stroke. He was only 52 and seriously, in good health. It's just so utterly awful. He was multi-generational; me (a grad student), my teenage sister, and my mother all liked him. My mom was talking about how he was one of the first celeb posters she had on her wall. Just, have your thoughts be with his family, because this is absolutely just so unexpectedly heart-wrenching. I wrote this chapter about a month and a half ago, and when I came to the part that had Mr. Andrews in it when I was editing yesterday, I very seriously had to sniffle and hold back tears.**

 ***Originally, there wasn't going to be a kiss this soon! But you all wanted it SO bad that, well, who doesn't love a tropey rain kiss?**

 ***The song, when I originally heard it, the first thought I had was 'huh, sounds like it would be played during the apocalypse'. Apparently, everyone in the YT comments thought so too. Go check it out! It's super coolio.**

 ***I, cough, didn't know that a Sweet Pea was a flower until like this summer...I just thought it was a weird name...**

 ***I have decided that this will update monthly! So, be on the look-out for updates around the 5th of each month or so :)**

 **As always, review!**


	12. Track11:Waiting for the End of the World

**It's here ;)**

 **Thank you to my reviewers: Guest and SexyHazel3y3s!**

 **Guest: I agree, this is one of my favorite stories! The best way to make sure more people see it is to review every chapter, because a LOT of people sort by review number!**

* * *

 **The Song for this chapter is Waiting for the End of the World by Elvis Costello!**

* * *

 _September 22nd, 2018_

Betty woke up feeling like her body was not her own. That is, to say, that it felt foreign and aching and full of lead. It was as though someone had come in during the night and replaced everything with a more painful and non-human counterpart.

Her throat felt like sandpaper that someone had rubbed nearly all the way down, and then left outside without water for forty days and forty nights. Her head felt like a brass band in which every member was deaf and trying to play as loud as they could, while also jumping up and down. Her eyes hurt to open. Her entire body tingles like when her leg fell asleep, and when she tried to shift under the blankets, it just felt like she was swimming in thick mud. She tried to speak, but her lips seemed like they had forgotten, and Betty just whined.

Beside her, Sweet Pea shifted.

"Mornin' party girl."

"Why are you yelling?" Betty moaned, curling the pillow over her face.

"I'm speaking normally."

"Lies."

Sweet Pea chuckled, "That better?" He asked in a much more appropriate tone.

Betty tried to make an affirmation sound, but it might have just been wheezing.

"I'm getting you water. This is a hangover. It probably will last all day," Sweet Pea said, as though lecturing in a college class.

Betty opened one eye to see Sweet Pea pulling on a shirt and pair of sports shorts, humming to himself. It was only seeing him so unclothed that Betty realized something else about her body; she was naked.

Not 'naked as the day you were born' naked, but naked in the sense that she only had her bra and underwear on. Betty was the type that couldn't imagine just going to bed without something on, and religiously wore at least a ratty shirt and pair of shorts, if not an entire matching pj set or a nightgown.

Which lead her to one conclusion.

"Sweets, did we...uh...last night?" She began carefully. Sweet Pea was out of the room, in the hallway.

"Have sex? No." His answer was short and simple, and he didn't turn back to answer her as he walked toward the kitchen.

 _Oh, thank God,_ Betty thought. When she had sex with Sweet Pea for the first time, she wanted to remember it. She wanted to never forget how he felt inside of her, or how his face looked when he came. She didn't want it to be when they were drunk.

Sweet Pea seemed to take an unusually long time getting water. Or, perhaps she was drunk. When he returned, his whole smile wasn't quite there, but he gave Betty's ruffled expression a warm look, shaking his head.

"You're in for a rough day, Cooper."

"Where are you going?" Betty asked as he turned out of the room.

"Breakfast," He replied without turning back around, "And organizing. You just...come when you feel better, okay?"

Something in his voice was tight, but Betty couldn't figure out what.

"Oh, sure."

XXxxXX

"Sweets? Did we...uh...last night?"

Sweet Pea, halfway out the door, held back a grin. He so much wanted to turn back to see Betty's adorably blushing face, but he feared his own face might give away too much of his own feelings.

"Have sex? No."

He toyed with the idea of adding something else, such as 'you sort of threw up on me', which would give her a why or perhaps make a cheeky comment that if she wasn't blushing, she'd be soon.

He heard Betty exhale, and then stopped dead at her next words;

"Oh, thank God."

It was quiet, just a hair above a whisper. Maybe he wasn't supposed to hear it. Maybe he was.

All Sweet Pea could do was hasten quickly to the kitchen and the bin they kept of sanitized water, but he felt himself gripping the glass too hard, his whole arm shaking.

He just sank down onto the carpeted floor.

He'd been rejected before, this wasn't anything new. He'd just never been so...invested in someone. He'd never wanted someone as ferociously as he did Betty.

He gathered his thoughts.

Last night, Betty was so incredibly drunk. Black-out drunk. Why did he expect anything she did to mean anything today? That was just erroneous thinking on his part. It was also quite presumptuous. Last night they existed in a strange mirror world where Betty drank harder than Sweets and she kissed him like he was Jughead. He couldn't have expected it to last, could he?

And to be honest, he couldn't even find reason to be mad at her. It wasn't some pre-written rule that Betty had to like him. If anything, it was Sweet Pea who's expectations needed to be examined.

And, truly, this wouldn't change anything. They'd still be partners, still act like they had on before, still care for each other. He didn't think she disliked him, she just didn't feel that way like he did for her.

Oh thank god; maybe she'd been right? If they had gotten around to sex last night, and she'd woken up this morning horrified at it, she might think he pressured her...which Sweet Pea would never do. And that would have changed the dynamic, that would have been worse.

At least her feelings were clear now, he told himself. No room for mistakes.

Still, he couldn't stop the hurt.

He wasn't going to let Betty see. That wasn't fair to her. He didn't blame her. His feelings were his own, hers were hers. He had to respect that.

He dunked the glass in the tub and returned to Betty's and his room. He found it difficult to be in the area with her, after ending last night thinking they had their feelings all figured out.

Things would get easier. They always did.

XXxxXX

 _September 23rd, 2018_

The day after Betty's 'birthday', Betty spent most of it flopping around the bed, moaning and feeling ready to die. Sweet Pea, who didn't seem drunk at all, was scarce, working through their very long list of things to do before winter came.

At first, she chalked it up to a role reversal, one in which he was the responsible one, where Betty was the party animal nursing her late night out.

By the second day, however, it became clear. Well, not clear, but more obvious.

Sweet Pea wasn't ignoring her, which is what made it hard for her to notice at first. He was spending the exact same amount of time with her as usual, but that was it. He was playing their interactions out as though it was business as normal. No, it was more than that, he was being very attentive to do this. Almost methodical, or calculated.

He was treating her with kid gloves. He was treating her with 'just friends' looks and touches to a point where it couldn't be ignored.

This lead Betty to to one conclusion she couldn't shake; he didn't like her.

She knew she'd set out that night to tell Sweet Pea how she felt. Betty couldn't imagine in any world that she wouldn't have done so, not when her goal was so concrete in her mind. There wasn't casual flirting or blushing and unsureness of a new crush, the way Betty recalled it usually went. His careful way he spoke and acted with her told her that he'd likely turned her down the nights previous, and realizing she recalled nothing of that night, was now making his feelings clear. He was doing all he could to not misconstrue their interactions.

It sort of stung.

Betty nearly asked him to confirm it, but she realized she couldn't bear that feeling. It would be like Archie all over again, and that had truly cut at her heart.

She'd been so sure that he…

Well, she'd also been positive that Archie had been in love with her all their lives, and that wasn't true, right? And Jughead liking her had more or less caught her by surprise.

So, in all, with her track record, Betty shouldn't have been so shocked that he didn't feel the same. She should have realized she was going out on a limb.

Well, okay then. They had to just move past it. There wasn't any other option.

A part of Betty was very glad she couldn't remember that night. She didn't think she could handle the full recollection of his rejection. The aftermath was painful enough.

XXxxXX

 _October 1st, 2018_

As the days slipped into October, it became easy to forget about the incident. There was so much to do that it left both of them exhausted and in their own worlds more times than not. And, if they were doing an activity together, they were both so focused on their individual tasks that there wasn't time to talk anyway.

Now that the weather was beginning the cool, there was the real fear that any day now it could snow, and they might not be ready.

Their lists of tasks seemed never ending. If they thought they'd been busy in the summer, they had no idea what they were in for. The most frustrating thing was knowing that once winter hit, they would have so much endless time, time in which none of the things on their 'before winter' list could be done anymore, and they'd just be sitting around twiddling their thumbs.

Most of their things on the 'list' had an end date, but a date that neither could predict.

They had to triage their goals, but the difficult thing was nothing on their list wasn't important for the upcoming season. Food, heat, and health were all equally as needed, and none could be spared. The only thing that could be more or less axed was Betty's efforts to get flowing water again. As nice as it would have been to shower, and as much as they feared the pipes would freeze without this, it wasn't a necessity. They had their bins of water. One day, they might fix it, but this winter they'd go without. The days they began to pull- the long, grueling hours- were just short of driving both to insanity. Perhaps, if they'd been back in Riverdale and the fate of their very lives wasn't weighing upon them, they would have.

It was during these times that Betty thought about how she truly was glad to have Sweet Pea. He was a hard worker, because that's all life had ever expected of him. She imagined being paired with one of the kids from her high school that had never worked a day in their lives. It was horrifying to imagine. She didn't envy whoever they had found, if those people weren't already dead.

If there was any free time to be found between Sweet Pea tilling the land and Betty canning food or preparing it for long-term storage, they took turns chopping firewood to store in bulk. No, not even in bulk. In excess.

As much as they (or, really, Betty) was trying to double check the few solar energy panels, they couldn't be too careful when it came to storing ways to make the house warm. They also came to the executive decision to only utilize the most important rooms and no more. They'd seal off the rest of the house, since two people didn't need too much space.

Sweet Pea chopped wood faster than Betty, but it was a good breather. Like killing walkers, there was a sense of calming to be able to viciously split wood. Anytime either were feeling frustrated, this chore kept both with an outlet and exhausted afterwards.

Speaking of walkers, they also needed to consider realistically how they would guess the winter would play out. Did they need to up the walls? Was it something neither had to worry about? How aggressive would their enemies be?

And human enemies! They ran the risk of others seeking their warmth, their food, once things got difficult. It caused both to have to consider some unsavory choices they'd have to make later to keep their home safe. Like killing humans. Which, in the apocalypse, seemed counter-productive. But they both agreed they weren't going to sit around and wait for someone else to kill them first.

It was something they put a pin in.

Yes, with all the business they had about with preparing for cold and snow, forgetting about the whole birthday affair was easy enough to do.

XXxxXX

 _October 2nd, 2018_

By the time that Jughead's birthday had hit, the weather had dropped from balmy 80s to mid 50s, foretelling the incoming season. It became cool enough for Betty to don her Serpent Jacket most days, and a necessity in the cool air of the night.

It made her ruminate a lot upon how things could have been very different had her mother never married her father. Maybe, in a slightly alternative life, she would have been wearing this jacket since childhood, like Sweet Pea.

She also thought a lot about the owner of the jacket, a stringy boy named Lann. She recalled seeing him at a few events. She thought about how he was dead and that was sad. She thought about how a lot of people she loved were dead.

Putting on the Serpent Jacket also made her feel detached from Jughead, who had tried to hard to keep her out of this life. Then again, he had asked her to be his Serpent Queen days before this whole madness happened, so maybe he'd be pleased.

It was impossible to guess anything about Jughead. He'd never been one to be predictable, but that's what she'd loved about him.

She was mid-way through his birthday before she realized it.

Sweet Pea undoubtedly knew. He had a way of keeping the calendar straight inside of his head in a way that Betty never could. In summers, if given enough free time, Betty would become confused about what date they were on within a couple days. She had the feeling Swee Pea would have been on top of that, since he was now. It showed her an intelligence that was hard to quantify in traditional schooling. She mused that with the right teachers and right lessons, what sort of greatness could Sweet Pea have reaped?

Either way, she was sure that Sweet Pea was very much aware of the date before him. In fact, it was his stumbling around her that caused Betty to check the date on the paper calendar they kept.

And, oh.

It seemed rude to not mark it's passing in some way. At least, now that she knew it was occurring. If she hadn't looked and realized days later, she wouldn't have felt quite as compelled to make a motion to it.

Not to say she was going to throw herself on her bed sobbing, or write sad things in her diary.

But Jughead deserved something. And, god willing, his spirit out there would see it.

Sweet Pea didn't question when she vanished mid-day. In fact, he probably knew.

Sweet Pea might take the cake with keeping track of dates, but Betty recalled more birthdays than she ever wanted to know. Somehow, once you told her your birthday, Betty's memory would commit it to her mind practically forever. It was for sure weird that she still remembered Moose's or Dilton's birthday, even if they had gone to school together since kindergarten.

Jughead's was the first birthday that had come up she wanted to recognize. Her mother's, father's, niece and nephew's, sister,'s, Archie's, Kevin's, and Veronica's all fell past the date of when they'd started really making something good here at the house. Not that they had a breather, but they were not going anywhere soon.

She was sure that Sweet Pea remembered the birthdays of those he'd cared about. He seemed like the type.

On the edge of their chicken-wire property, there was a tree Betty had decided was beautiful. It was old and regal looking, the bark a pleasing brownish-red tone. The leaves were full. It looked like the sort of tree Impressionist painters would have sat for the day and painted in different light. Maybe, next summer, Betty would too.

It seemed a good place as any to make a place to honor the dead.

Everyone, body present or not, deserved a burial.

She didn't have a nice headstone for him. She wished she was able to carve a flat stone beautifully, or even scratch it semi-legibly, but writing on stone was way harder than she thought. She suddenly had a greater appreciation for the Greeks and Romans or grave-stone artisans.

In the end, what she was able to do, was dig out an area and plant a largish stone into the gap. There was some old house paint in one of the garages, and she was able to carefully pen his name and his birth date. It might wash off after the winter, but keeping up this stone- the first of many- would be a good enough gesture, she figured.

Then, she just sat there for a little bit, wishing she had more to say to Jughead's grave.

"Don't be mad, Juggie," She said, speaking to 'him' for the first time in what felt like eons, "But I'm sort of over you. That's wrong, I can't be over you. You gotta know I'll always love you, you were my first and that...it means something real to me. But you're not here, and Sweet Pea is. I didn't plan for this to happen, trust me but I…" She exhaled unevenly, "I might be sorta falling in love with him too. But it doesn't matter. He doesn't feel that way for me."

She looked to her left, to the place mentally she thought she might put Archie's stone, "I guess I should be asking him about that. Get some perspective."

She bit the inside of her cheek, patting Jughead's rock, like it was him. The sun warmed it, which helped her do this, say this.

"I just wanted you to know. So that it's fair. You're dead, so maybe it doesn't matter, but I think it does." She finished quietly.

She sat out there another hour, just talking about what they'd done so far. Nothing important. Nothing that she wouldn't talk to Veronica or her mother about. She wrote in her journal daily still, because it was even more important than ever to chart occurrences, but this felt more casual. Like she was discussing things with a friend. It felt nice to just chat it out sometimes.

By the time she returned, the sky was starting to darken.

"You ok?"

"That tree," Betty began, having held it together perfectly fine until she heard Sweet Pea's tone, "The one to the left, you know? That's where we'll, uh," She wiped her nose on her sleeve, pointing backwards, "That's our memorial. You'll see what I did. Do it for others, on their birthday. It's how we'll remember."

"Like a graveyard?"

"No, there's no bodies." Saying facts helped Betty calm down, "Just a memorial."

"Oh. Okay, sure." Sweet Pea twiddled his thumbs, "It's nice."

Betty bit her lip hard.

"You didn't answer my question," Sweet Pea murmured, voice low.

"I'm fine. I've been fine," Betty insisted, "But thank you."

Sweet Pea looked at her hard for a second, before shrugging. His reply's words were casual, but his tone was soft.

"Anytime, Coop."

XXxxXX

 _October 9th, 2018_

One week later, on Sweet Pea's birthday, Betty woke up early. She slipped into the kitchen and heated some water for her tea. They were triple, and even quadruple re-using tea bags, since it was now a finite number. It meant her morning English Breakfast tea today was more water than flavor, sort of like an unfizzy and hot La Croix, but it had become a pattern that she enjoyed.

Betty padded out to their porch, long sleeves of her cardigan wrapped around the mug, peering outside. The day was practically foggy. It looked like someone had draped a veil over the landscape, casting gothic shadows over the fields and forests. It felt like the inside of a scary horror movie, like that if someone was filming their journey and wanted to set the tone, today's weather would be perfect.

She doubted they'd get much work done today outside. No way was she letting Sweet Pea work the fields, since she could hardly see a foot in front of her. If a walker came upon him, he'd never see it.

No matter, they had things to do inside. And, since it was Sweet Pea's birthday, it seemed fair they took it easy.

She sipped her tea until it was gone before setting to work.

She was going to make breakfast today, as a gesture of good will. They had things to make pancakes, and little chocolate chips. Besides, some of the materials would go bad if they didn't use these within the month, thus it became a logical choice to splurge on breakfast today.

She sneaked the plates onto the table right as Sweet Pea stumbled into the main room, yawning.

"Happy birthday," She said quietly, waiting for a response as he just blinked at the spread. She remembered how against he'd been telling her his birthday, about the man comments that had followed. She was all ready to explain to him why this wasn't going too far out of the way, or give a bullet point list of the reasons-

Then, his face split into a grin.

"Awe, Coop. You didn't have to."

"You're 18," Betty said, "You're an adult, Sweets. Plus, you gave me a birthday."

Sweet Pea sat down, licking his lip, "Sorta. I peer-pressured you into drinking a vat of champagne that would have gone bad otherwise."

"It wasn't nothing. Thought that counts?"

"This is way better," Sweet Pea said, mouth full of pancake.

After, and convincing Sweet Pea it was foolish to venture outside, they began their work for the day at a casual pace.

Mid-morning was spent setting up the mouse-traps all around the house in preparation for furry and unwelcome visitors when the weather dropped. They argued whether it was worth it to eat the animals they caught.

"Does the Bubonic Plague mean anything to you?" Betty argued.

"They got it from bites and shit, not from eating mice and rats," Sweet Pea snorted.

"I'm just saying, we shouldn't spend long amounts with that sort of vermin." Betty huffed.

When the perimeter was properly dotted with traps, they went around and sprayed bug-away and insect killer around the entrances too, since Betty had begun to stumble upon one too many spiders inside for her comfort.

The last part of the day was spent charting their hunting supplies. They had plans starting in the next few days to begin to hunt their meat for winter. Sweet Pea was overly excited for this, in Betty's opinion.

"My family hadn't really been hunters," Betty had said, turning up her nose.

"Uhm, your dad was a serial killer."

"Okay, animal hunters." Betty felt a tinge of annoyment to be reminded, "I'm sure as hell not a serial killer."

"We'll never know," Sweet Pea said, carefully counting arrows, "The world ended. You could kill me, but that wouldn't get you very far."

XXxxXX

By the time the sky darkened, they were prepared to hunt; arrows and knives laid out and sharpened, bows checked for faults, bags prepared to store the meat, and rope to drag big game back. They also had their traps cleaned of walker guts to lay out, since now they'd be trying to catch food over walkers. They discussed strategically putting their spear pits in places where there was animal traffic, and started talking about carving daily time out to check it.

With their list completed, they decided it was only fair to play a board game as the end to a quiet birthday.

" _Risk_ and _Monopoly_ are more fun with at least three," Sweet Pea said, arms crossed in front of the cabinet with 'fun things'. Betty mimicked his stance, head tilted.

"Card game?"

"My favorite, _BS,_ is better with a group," Sweet Pea said. They quietly scanned the array of board games.

"Here's one that just needs two," Betty pulled out a box, " _Pandemic_. Appropriate."

"Maybe a little too much so," Sweet Pea winced, "Hell, let's try it. Maybe we'll have a leg up because we're living through one."

As they sat cross-legged on the floor, board in front of them, munching on a handful each of the mini chocolate kisses, it reminded Betty of a former family night with her mother, father, and Polly.

She said as much to Sweet Pea.

"My 'family' board games always ending in screaming and fighting," He said.

"Oh, one of _those_ families."

"The Peabody's were very passionate about _Settlers of Catan_ ," Sweet Pea said, and she didn't think he was joking, "And later, with the Serpents...I mean, no one was more ready to throw a punch over a _Sorry_ betrayal."

"This brining back traumatic memories?" Betty teased.

"I stopped offering to play early on," Sweet Pea waved a hand away, "I didn't have that time for the drama. Toni loved it. Cheryl too, later. I think they would purposely pick fights in the games. Stupid, in my opinion."

"What would the Serpents have done for your birthday?" Betty asked, laying down a card.

"Get me drunk, probably. Maybe pull together money for some hand-me-down gift. I'd probably get another tattoo, now that it was 'legal'."

Betty spied his two visible tattoos; the one on his neck and the one on his finger, "Yeah, clearly someone didn't care much about that."

"It would have been expected, not surprising. I like this." Sweet Pea said honestly, "Feels real. Maybe Toni n' Fangs woulda done something more personable, like maybe we woulda gone to batting cages or seen a movie, but that would have been asking a lot."

"Oh!" Betty sat up, "One second."

She went into her room, coming out with a carefully wrapped package. She'd used plastic bags for her wrapping paper.

"It's not much, but I mean, you're 18." She said.

Sweet Pea opened it with care and chuckled.

"Really?"

He held up a folded sheet of lottery cards.

"Might have snagged it from a rest stop. It's what we did at Riverdale High. Drove people it on their 18th to try for a couple bucks. I tried to find a voting sticker, since you can- could-vote too, but no dice."

"If I scratch this off and find like I won $200, I'mma be so upset, Cooper," Sweet Pea said.

"We could try to go back and rob a gas station, if it will make it more real," Betty offered.

"I might hold you to that. I'll want my pennies," Sweet Pea chortled, using his thumb to start scratching. When that provided unsatisfactory and slow, he fished out a lone quarter from the old tenant's junk drawer.

"You know," Sweet Pea said, "It's ironic that people use money to scratch off sheets to see if they win more money. It's an instrument and a prize."

"Have you always been this philosophical?"

Sweet Pea flopped onto his back, scratching the sheets above his face.

"Dunno if you heard, but the world sort of ended. I have a lot of free time on my hands," He replied back, sending a wry grin her way.

In the end, out of the six sheets Betty managed to snag (and, she theorized most people had looted these early on, thinking for some reason that they'd be able to cash these in if the world went right again) Sweet Pea only managed to make about twenty-eight dollars.

"Well, that will cover the cost of the sheets-theoretically- and you might have some money left over for a McFlurry," Betty winced, "Damn. When Polly turned 18, we got her just one and she won $150."

"You're joking," Sweet Pea moaned, letting the sheets flutter onto his face.

"No! I guess you're just unlucky or something."

Sweet Pea sat up slowly, an unreadable expression on his face. He swallowed hard for a moment. Before Betty could ask why the long face, he put on a warm smile.

"Yeah, guess so. It was a fun idea. I bet it you scratched 'em off, it would have been more."

"The monetary value wouldn't have changed," Betty argued logically, "I would have been just as broke."

"I think that magically it would have been different."

"Oh yes," Betty gave a obvious roll of her eyes, "You believe in magic and superstitions and fate and all," She gave a wiggle of her fingers, "Your probably believe ever ghost story out there."

"That's what makes them scary and makes them fun. Don't ask to hear any because it will terrify you for weeks afterward." He warned.

Betty sat back on her haunches, "Sure. I'll keep that in mind."

She paused, looking over her cards.

"Sweets?"

"Hmm," He said, using the lotto cards to make paper airplanes.

"Was this a good birthday for you?"

She didn't say it, but after the disaster with Jughead and their whole fight about it months ago, she sort of really needed this confirmation. There was a long pause and she feared the worst, that he was going to get mad at even the small work she'd done to try to make it seem like it wasn't at the end of society.

"Yeah, Betts. It was a good one. One of the best I can remember. Top five, easily."

Whether he truly meant that or was just saying it to be kind, he said it anyway. Betty liked to believe he meant it.

XXxxXX

 _October 12th, 2018_

Betty missed the warm nights of summer, where it was almost enjoyable to leave the window open to catch a breeze coming across the moon, when she would lay on the thick comforter and sleep comfortably in just a tank and a pair of sports shorts.

It was easier then, she decided, easier to keep their space. While they didn't have an actual pillow barrier, somehow being on top of the sheets felt less like their bed as more like a place to sleep. And there was, she wanted to make clear, a difference.

Plus, in the summer, they'd each claimed throw blankets to pull over their bodies if they felt chilly. Betty had brought her favorite blanket from home all the way here, and wasn't about to give it up, even if someone offered her a million dollars for it.

Not sure why someone would want a million dollars for her blanket, but she digressed.

It had been bought at Hot Topic or Target way back when, and it featured a full-size still of her favorite childhood movie, _Ponyo_ from Miyazaki. When she'd gotten it as a present, it had been fluffier than a puppy's fur. Now, years past, it was matted and a little grimey looking, but it still smelled like home. Even after all these months, it smelled familiar.

Sweet Pea had just found one of the many throw blankets in the house. It was woolen and apparently all the way from Mount Rushmore, woven with Native American patterns and little buffalos.

Point being, they had their own blankets, they stayed on their side.

As of late, however, the cool weather had sent them under the covers. They had come to the agreement it was foolish to burn wood so early, when only the nights were chilly and all it took was a trip under the covers to fix it. Plus, some warmer PJs. So, as intimate as it felt sleeping under the covers with Sweet Pea was, it was the smart choice.

This is what Betty continued to tell herself. This is what she told herself all the times she thought about how domestic this felt, and how badly she wanted this domesticity with Sweet Pea. This is what she told herself when she had the urge to reach out and stroke his cheek or curl into his arms that looked so very welcoming.

Often, Betty fell asleep right away. She was usually so tired from the day's events that she slipped into dreamland without any worry. It was something she was unused to, since in Riverdale, she usually had to go through a long destress regimen to relax herself enough to close her eyes without the thousand of things she had to do running through her brain.

Ever since they started regularly pulling back the covers to sleep, though, she'd run into the same troubles. Although, of late, her thoughts swirling around her head were not about what needed to be done, but of the tall, dark, and handsome Serpent sleeping inches away from her.

She was going through their food cellar in her mind to keep herself occupied until she fell asleep. It was sort of like counting sheep, just as dry and dull.

She decided that the utter darkness and silence of summer nights was more acceptable than winter nights. The heavy cover of just ebony in front of her, coupled with only the noises of their breathing to interrupt the space, felt sort of unreal. Sort of like a movie, or a good memory.

This same conditions but with a coldness that made her toes itch and her nose slightly runny? Not quite as easily romanticized.

She screwed her eyes shut, willing herself to sleep, when she heard it.

A high-pitched moaning sound that she was sure would haunt her dreams for the rest of her days.

The eerie sound echoed around the empty house, lingering and wavering out, leaving Betty's heart thumping hard.

Without thinking about it, Betty slapped her hand out, grabbing Sweet Pea's fingers under the covers. The sudden contact made him jump, and he swiped his knife off the bedside table, eyes wide and panting.

"What, what is it?"

"I…" Betty whispered, "There's a sound. It just…" She suddenly felt very stupid for grabbing his hand.

"Oh, hey, no worries," He said.

There was a moment of stillness in which Betty nearly unweaved her fingers from his, but then the sound came again.

Betty stiffened completely, pressing herself against the mattress.

It was haunting, as she just lay silent, not even breathing. Sort of melancholy, like the sound of a wailing woman who had just learned her lover had died. It was the sound of someone in deep mourning. Maybe what simultaneously terrified and saddened Betty was this realization that maybe why it sent her white as a sheet, other than the surprise of noise piercing the air, was that she felt it on such a deep, emotional level. She didn't know if she was choking back tears because it scared her or because she felt the song of whatever this was at her core.

"It's a loon," Sweet Pea whispered quietly, "I'm surprised you've never heard one before."

"It's so...chilling," Betty murmured back, as though any sound above a whisper would make it stop. A part of her didn't want it to end.

"Yeah."

Betty rolled over next to Sweet Pea, her fingers locked in his.

"Go to sleep," Sweet Pea said, pulling her a little closer. Not close enough to cradle her against him, but close enough so that it was extremely comfortable for their hands to remain in one another's. Whether he knew he was doing it or not, his thumb started to rub soft circles over the back of her hand.

They pretty much never slept face to face. It was always backs to each other, or one person looking at the other's back. And, under the covers, it felt almost naughty. If Betty just reached her socked foot out an inch to the left, she might tickle against his shin.

He didn't seem like he was going to let go of her hand any time soon. Betty, starved for not only contact in general, but his, wasn't going to be the one to withdraw first.

She inched her pillow a little closer, only tensing as the loon wailed again, but otherwise less freaked out. Sweet Pea offered a smile that was so tender it hurt. He squeezed her hand.

"Sleep," He commanded quieter, "I got you."

Betty had no trouble drifting off with his promise lingering in the recess of her mind.

* * *

 ***Ok, ok, so usually I'm the first to HATE stupid miscommunications between couples, but here, it was just too perfect. Because, in my original storyplot, they aren't supposed to kiss for a little bit still. And, because certain things hinge on that, I had to make a reason to 'push it back'. Plus, this story loves some good angst, right? Besides, now the story moves into something even better...Unresolved Sexual Tension!**

 ***If you want to read more about the Serpent, Lann, check out my other Riverdale story Blood of My Blood, Flesh of My Flesh!**

 ***So, if you guys have never heard a loon sound before, they are straight up terrifying! I mean, I've come to also like them because I grew up around lakes, but for sure if you had no idea, you'd think someone was being murdered or something... If you look up 'Voices: Common Loon' by Cornell Lab of Orinthology on Youtube, you'll get what I mean**

 ***Finally, I hate doing this truly, but last chapter I only got two reviews. I always get people telling me that they love this story so much, review once, and then are never seen again. Really, if you like this story, I cannot tell you how much it means to get a review, even a short one! It doesn't need to be a lot. So please, make my day, and drop a review.**

 **Until next time!**


	13. Track 12: Do You Realize

**So I have two stories going that I update once a month, and the 'date' for the other one is the 12th. I thought both that one and this one were on the 12th, I forgot this one was on the 5th. Oops. That explains the latenes...**

 **Thank you to my reviewers: victoriaalexington, Guest, Guest, Serpent818, and Ava!**

 **Guest (April 5th): Now that it's summer, I hope to get these out more frequently, maybe every two weeks, but we'll see! Read the A/N at the bottom!  
Serpent818: Eventually, you just get used to the climate haha**

 **Ava: Thank you so much! Glad you're enjoying it :)**

* * *

 _October 17th, 2018_

Betty didn't even breathe as she lowered herself down on the foliage of the forest, ducking her head under a branch and moving her foot so carefully as not to snap a twig. Holding an exhale on the other side of her lips, she drew back the bow inch by inch, never blinking as she focused all of her energy on the deer in front of her. It was huge; a buck. The antlers on it alone were bigger than her arm span.

She could imagine how gleeful she'd feel if the first deer they bagged was one she got. It was only going to work if she made this shot, and if she made it well. Otherwise, Sweets would never let her live it down if she missed it.

She waited until the majestic animal padded a little bit closer. She leaned forward, angling the bow and using her chin as a anchor. She tried to remember all the things that Cheryl had taught her so many months ago, at Lodge Lodge, and all of her own tips she'd picked up while practicing.

The animal turned its head, its eyes shining and bright. One part of Betty hated killing an animal as beautiful and regal looking as this, and it brought back memories of _Bambi_ traumatizing her, but her grumbling stomach reminded her of the more important things in life.

Like, well, food.

She sent a prayer up to anyone that would listen moments before she let the bow go.

The _twang_ resonated, reaching her ears and the ears of the buck, but not fast enough for either to make any sort of move. The arrow went right through the deer's throat, embedding itself deeply, causing blood to spray upon the decaying leaves below its hoofs. It took off, startled and in pain, and Betty ran after it, whistling to Sweet Pea to indicate the animal was on the move.

Sweet Pea, who was keep watch a safe distance away, broke into a sprint with Betty. He managed to keep up with the deer better than Betty, but it wasn't going to last long. It was bleeding all across the forest and it wasn't long before Betty caught up to them. Sweet Pea had grabbed the buck and was holding it steady, and it was too weak to fight it's way out. Sweet Pea's entire shirt was saturated with blood as he pressed himself against it.

"Little help?"

He could have killed it himself, had he gotten the right angle, but Betty thought maybe he was waiting for her. Letting her do the killing blow.

She sunk her knife into it's brain. It slumped to the ground, Sweet Pea jumping back, as not to fall under the weight of the fur.

It probably was in pain before it died, Betty thought, looking at the blood running down the neck, as she extracted the weapons. A clean shot would have been right through the eyes. This wasn't a clean shot.

It was, however, a shot.

This was the first time a deer had stumbled across their path they'd been able to kill. They'd both been practicing against the side of the barn, sending arrows to a crudely painted bullseye when they had a moment to spare. Guns were too loud. Traps were only good if they were lucky. Knives were too close range.

They were going out daily now, ever since the temperatures in nights had dropped. A week ago, Betty noticed sometimes that when the sun dipped below the horizon, she could see her breathe.

When she pointed this out to Sweet Pea, he'd said 'Winter is Coming'. She'd only raised an eyebrow. She may been a geek, but Sweet Pea was a nerd.

They always went together. One notched the arrow and hunted, the other stood guard.

They were evenly matched in who was the better hunter.

Sweet Pea had experience. He'd hunted before, with good success, with guns. Arrows was a new experience for him. His strength also topped Betty's. When he sent an arrow flying, it could go right through an animal.

His biggest problem was that he was impatient. It. wasn't in Sweet Pea's nature to stay still for longer than a minute or so, even when trying his best. He would undoubtedly shift, and his large stature would cause a crinkle of leaves or breaking a branch. With something like a deer, that took utmost quiet and patience, he hadn't managed that yet.

Usually, he'd alert whatever animal he was stalking and hastily shot the bow, not caring much about accuracy but hoping to blindly hit something instead.

Betty, on the other hand, knew all about biding one's time, about shutting her body down and just sitting...waiting.

She may not have the man-power that Sweets did, but she was willing to sit for hours until a deer passed by.

But her aim was awful. When Sweet Pea actually tried, his shots were near impeccable. Betty almost never had it hit quite where she was aiming, though she hit a good number. Enough to not be regaled immediately to 'watch' while Sweet Pea hunted. They took that job evenly.

Overall, they weren't the worst hunters out there.

Unskilled, Sweet Pea had corrected. Through the winter and into next year, they'd get better by practice. One day, they might even be as good as Cheryl.

Sweet Pea handed off his kills of the day to Betty as he began to tie up the deer to take back. Betty cleaned her arrow, putting it back, before taking the rope holding three rabbits and a fowl. Every animal was one more meal they'd get in winter. They were going to have to be mighty creative with their spices, Betty considered, since otherwise it would start to be pretty one-note.

Sweet Pea dragged the buck back, which Betty was grateful for. That thing looked like it weighed a ton. She was thrilled to imagine how much meat they could get off of it.

"Congrats," Sweet Pea said, nudging her shoulder, "On this."

"I got lucky," Betty shrugged.

Back at their house, they drug their kills into one of the detached garages, where they stored meat. Sweet Pea put down the tarp, brandishing a knife. Betty had never gotten comfortable with watching Sweet Pea gut an animal, which was strange, for she watched walker guts spill out all over and never got squeamish. It was something about knowing that this animal had been sentient, whereas walkers were just animated corpses.

She digressed.

She stuck around with him, though, on a stool nearby, watching him take out the innards and place them in buckets. Eating a deer's guts might have sounded gross once, but Betty would be upset if they didn't utilize every inch of this gift they'd been granted.

"You know," sweet Pea said, sitting back on his haunches, wiping sweat from his forehead, "It's a tradition that on your first deer kill, you're supposed to eat the heart."

"What?"

"You heard me," Sweet Pea was grinning. He fished around in the rib cage, taking out a bloody organ, "A-La-Game of Thrones. Just take a big bite out of it."

"Ew."

"I'm serious! It's totally something people do."

"That's unsanitary," Betty scrunched up her nose, "I'll take your congrats, but I'm not eating that. Don't you remember what happened when Daenerys ate that heart? She lost her baby."

"Dany lost her baby because she made that agreement with that witch doctor lady." Sweet Pea said like it was so clear she was wrong.

"In the show, sure. In reality, it was probably from eating an uncooked heart. Science." Betty threw up her hands. She gave a deep sigh, "I will meet you halfway. I don't want to waste any of the deer, so we'll cook it. Okay?" She gave him a sharp look.

"Fine," he pouted, "If you want to be a baby about it."

She was offended, but ignored him.

"I just realized," Sweet Pea said, making a horrified noise, "We're never gunna find out the ending to Game of Thrones."

"Oh, yeah, the last season was supposed to air next year, right?"

"Damn it," Sweet Pea sunk the knife into the deer, so upset he had to pause, "This is going to fucking kill me."

"We'll also never see the second Infinity Wars movie or the last Star Wars," Betty said after a second.

"Are you trying to make my cry?" Sweet Pea pouted.

"Is it really that big of a deal? Can't you just make up your own ending?"

"No," Sweet Pea guffawed, "I mean, half the time I hate what they do with stuff, but it's nice knowing what's 'canon'. That's a lost cause now. You think that if, like George R.R. Martin is kicking around somewhere, he'd tell his travel companions how it was supposed to end?"

"Suddenly regretting having me as your travel partner?" Betty giggled.

"A little," He said, but was grinning, completely in a way that made her heart thud, "You can't tell me who wins the Iron Throne."

"I hope it's Ned. He seems like a nice guy."

Sweet Pea squinted, "How far have you seen?"

"A few episodes. I feel asleep during a lot. I wasn't too into it. And I am very offended you are re-thinking your choices," She teased.

"Hey, c'mon now," He stood, coming up to her, "Just joshing you. Wouldn't trade you for anyone."

Betty, unable to think of a witty reply, noticed now close he was to her. He had sent one hand on the counter behind Betty, caging her into him, close to his chest.

"Really?" She asked, her tone completely serious.

Sweet Pea blinked, notching the shift in her tone. He too dropped his teasing expression, just for a moment. His adam's apple bobbed.

"Not even for Toni or Fangs?" She regretted the question the moment she asked it. How awful, to make him decide between his chosen family and her? For a girl he'd known less than a year in any serious way.

He didn't answer. Betty groaned, rubbing her hands over her face.

"Ignore That last bit. I didn't mean-,"

"No." The words fell over hers, a sharp and quick and very firm negation.

"No you're not going to ignore it?" Betty peaked between her fingers.

"No, I wouldn't trade you, even if it got me Fangs or Toni," He said, now sounding less sure as he explained it out. He was blushing.

"You're joking, right?" Betty whispered, "I mean, Fangs is like your brother. I'm just Betty."

Sweet Pea put his other hand on the counter behind her, his jaw tightening.

"Just Betty? You have no fucking idea, do you?" He asked, his laugh throaty and raw and like the sound of two wires sparking. Betty forgot how to breathe for a moment, and when the ability returned to her, it was like her mouth had been filled with cotton.

Betty's eyes flickered to his. She held it, his stormy chocolate eyes boring holes deep into her. He seemed to vibrate with energy, as though holding himself back.

She had two million thoughts going through her head right now, and all of them were dirty, dark, sexy things. She thought about how she wanted to kiss those lips, bit them between her own and lick all the day down his throat. She thought of how, if she wrapped her legs around his and pulled him closer, he'd sit perfectly in between her thighs. She thought about how they could go, fast and filthy, on the stool with the carcass of a deer inches away.

"Your shirt is disgusting," It was the only thing she could say that was decent. If she didn't say anything, she'd fear she'd say one of those other things. Of course, there was so much more behind just her statement. She thought about how she hated getting blood out of clothes, and how a good method hadn't been determined. She thought about how favorite shirts of hers had to be more or less burned after they were covered in walker guts. She thought about how, out of all of Sweet Pea's shirts, she would hate to throw this one away. The way it hugged his body was just so...awful and wonderful. It was tight enough to show the abs that he still retained, that it clung to his shoulders and made him seem godly. It left little to Betty's imagination, which caused the days he wore it to cause a mixture of stress and enjoyment for Betty.

Sweet Pea bit his lip in careful thought. His fingers played with the hem of his shirt, lifting it enough so that Betty could see a sliver of pale flesh underneath it. Was he going to take it off? Crap; she didn't think she could resist if that happened.

In a flash, she set her own hands underneath her body, sitting on them, as not to let her wandering fingers begin to undress him.

Sweet Pea's eyes flicker down, just for a second, and saw her action. He inhaled three times, then stepped back.

"I'll finish it up and try to get the shirt in the wash quick. Take the heart, go fry it up. It's distracting to have you here."

Betty felt mildly offended, but snatched up the organ between her palms. She sent one last look at Sweet Pea, stretched across the once mighty animal, and tried to keep her own heart inside her rib cage.

If Sweet Pea was aware of her internal struggle, he didn't seem it.

XXxxXX

 _October 22nd, 2018_

If there was one thing Betty hated most in this world, it was waiting. As a Journalist, having her sources reply back to her quickly, and organizing herself in a similar manner, was of paramount importance. There was nothing in this world Betty liked more than something that came announced, on-time, and with little delay.

Online grading was awful for Betty. She'd been shoved off the computer more than once by Polly in her years, refreshing the online grade book over and over and over, waiting for a teacher to input her scores. Before that, back in middle school? Betty would be the first one in the room after a big test, and she favored teachers who got scores back after a weekend.

Point being, Betty believed in the idea of things coming at their natural times and being able to be properly prepared.

Winter in New York often came on schedule, or, at least in Riverdale it did. In late October, the coldness would drop in, by the third week of November there was dusting of snow, always a white Christmas, and then things would clear up mid-March.

Wisconsin was on no such time table.

She could feel it coming. She knew winter was arriving. The weather was playing tricks with them; it would be almost comfortable one day, cloudy and cold the next, and then it would get colder. Betty would count their food and check the firewood pile and the solar pads, thinking that yes, this was it. Then, it would warm up again and her anxiety would be for naught.

In all, it was making her cranky.

Sweet Pea, who was a bundle of chaos, seemed not to be bothered by this. His desk area was strewn of papers and notes, so this hardly surprised her. He probably noticed her grouchy snappish attitude, but he seemed to know better than to poke the beast.

Her hyper-attention to making sure that when things got cold and stayed cold lended itself as a hearty distraction. Most nights now, Betty was gnawing her fingernails under her blankets, and hoping they wouldn't freeze to death instead of imaging Sweet Pea with no clothes on.

What comes does come when Betty is not expecting it at all is the number one thing she had been semi-glad hadn't appeared frequently at all; her period.

In fact, it's been a blessing that she hasn't had to think about it much of late. If she was with Jughead, and they would obviously be having sex, maybe it would be different. Maybe that would be another added layer of stress, worried she was pregnant every time her period didn't show up. But, since Betty hadn't been laid in months, her lack of a period was on the very back of her worries and concerns.

She spotted on occasion for a handful of days, usually darker blood that told her it was old, but on the whole, she hasn't really had her period since the first month of the apocalypse.

Betty isn't surprised. She knows enough about her own health to know that the combination of her unintentional fasting, suspiciously un-nutritious diet, and constant worry has probably done a number on her body, mainly that of stopping her period. Her period was never 'regular' to begin with, but the strain placed on her womanly bits have just made the bloody bastard disappear entirely.

Maybe she should have been looking out for this more. They're in a place where food comes at least with consistency, although not in quantity, she's having protein on a regular basis, and for the most part, she's not stressed out of her mind anymore. It still startles her to see such a heavy flow one morning, and immediately, she sort of wishes it was gone again.

She hasn't really considered what she's going to do if her periods do become regular again. It seems like a huge waste to use tampons and pads, especially since Betty can go through nearly half a box on a really bad week of her period. When it was somewhat regular, near the end of her last year of school, she was getting it closer to every three weeks than every four weeks. This, she decides, is a consideration she doesn't want to have to be thinking about, not with everything else.

But, she buckles down and takes it like a woman. She knows her first day of her period is her worst, so she sacrifices two Advils to combat the oncoming cramps and headaches, starts to clean off her clothes, and goes about her day.

It's not an issue until the end of her cycle.

She doesn't mention it outright to Sweet Pea. Seems like a strange thing to bring up, and he might be grossed out by it. Jughead was always a little put off when she brought it up. Sure, it was just woman's bodies and sure it was normal, but frankly, Betty didn't like talking about it to other people either. To have old blood dispelled from her was a sorta yuck thing. It certainly left things messy.

Point being, Sweet Pea has probably walked around this whole week unaware, Betty thought.

She had taken to using tampons for the worst two days of her period, and then white cloth bits the rest, bits she would systematically bleach. She had decided to put two of her worst pairs of underwear to the job as ugly period underwear, and at the end of her cycle she sat in the bathroom (currently, with no running water, but a place for a sink and water in the tub that wasn't sanitized for drinking) and washed out her pair. It was only once this pair was thoroughly soaked with water and a little bit of bleach, she realized she hadn't brought her normal pair with her into the bathroom. She hadn't known today she'd end her cycle, and in the excitement and relief of having a glorious near-three weeks blood free, she'd taken off her underwear to wash immediately.

So, now she was underwearless.

She was wearing a dress, and her bedroom was across the house. Not an ungodly length to walk commando, but something Betty wasn't comfortable doing. She never felt comfortable commando, whereas Veronica had talked about that 'freeing feeling' far too often for Betty. Either way, she could put back on her soaked and damp underwear, wait in the bathroom for them to dry, or just it up and walk out into the house.

By matter of necessity and the idea of putting damp underwear back on seeming totally uncomfortable, Betty rolled her eyes at her own paranoia and walked outside.

Or, rather, walked briskly.

Perhaps a little too briskly, because she pretty much ran _right_ into Sweet Pea. Sweet Pea, who had been clearly shoving around boxes or something downstairs, or maybe working out and chopping wood, because he was sweaty. And shirtless.

And Sweet Jesus…

Betty didn't think about sex or sex things while on her period. It was just too bloody down there, like the scene of a bad murder, for her to even consider such things.

The moment she was off her period, though?

"Woah, woah," Sweet Pea said, throwing his shirt over his shoulder, steadying Betty, "What's got your panties in a twist?" He asked, grinning. He maneuvered her back, so that she was close to a wall, patting her shoulder to walk past her, his other arm steadying her.

"Phrasing-," Betty couldn't help but stutter out, wondering if he somehow knew, or if God up there thought this was just some big cosmic joke to him. With most of the population dead, it probably was, and maybe Betty was the most interesting person to fuck with, she thought with a hint of anger and embarrassment. Sweet Pea paused his movement, turning his attention back to her.

"Hey, you okay? You're pretty flushed," Sweet Pea's hands were still on her arms. Betty couldn't look at his face. So she looked down.

Big mistake.

She could see the 'v' of his hips, the way his jeans hung off him, the bulge down there that might or might not have been his member, but God a part of Betty hoped it sort of was and then- and then she realized that she was just staring so blatantly at him, all the while getting wet herself, standing here in front of him with just a flimsy dress between him and her own nakedness.

Christ.

"Betty?" Sweet Pea's voice was tinged with humor, in a way that made her feel even warmer.

"I...was going to the bedroom, to," She swallowed. _Find an excuse_ , she told herself, _just say anything to get out of this moment before you do something you'll regret_ , "Well, because I'm not wearing underwear so I need to grab another pair."

Okay, so telling him the truth had _not_ been on her shortlist of ideas she thought was a good one. She actually wasn't sure what had compelled her brain to form that sentence or her lips to speak it. She wasn't sure what part of her anatomy had betrayed her more, but she immediately screwed up her face in a wince, sure her face was approximately the color of a plum right about now.

Silence. When she opened her eyes to see Sweet Pea suck in hard.

His eyes flickered down, not as though he could see anything, but his face was almost unreadable.

Almost, except for a dark look that seemed to overtake his pupils.

"Really? Seems irresponsible to be running around without underwear on in the middle of an apocalypse," His words were lighthearted and teasing, but his tone was sexy and rough, just the way that made a whole shiver run up her body.

"Well, I," Betty fumbled, her voice a hair above a whisper, "Don't you go commando like half the time?"

When Sweet Pea shot Betty his grin, it was downright sexy. It made her legs quake a little.

"And how would you know that?" He asked, a chuckle finding its way from his mouth. She hadn't known, she'd been guessing. But from the way his head tipped, she got the acute confirmation that he was currently wearing no underwear under his jeans.

And the fact that they were both standing there, and if they both took off their clothes they'd be one step closer to having sex, caused Betty to more or less melt into a quivering pile. As her legs started to buckle, Sweet Pea went to catch her, one hand clasping harder around her arm, the other grabbing her at the waist.

He was inches from her. Somehow, he'd pressed her against the wall, and crowded closer, maybe to pull her against him if she actually did do something as totally embarrassing as fainting.

Betty met his eyes. She couldn't stop looking now, watching the minuscule changes on his face.

He knew how deftly he held her attention, because he bit his lip, as though considering something. She nearly jumped out of her skin as on of his hands began tracing lightly down her leg, just a finger ghosting across the top of her dress. It paused right below the hem. For a second, Betty realized she couldn't have predicted what was going on in Sweet Pea's head, or what his next action was, but he placed his hand on her lower thigh, the top of his palms brushing the end of the fabric of her dress.

A breath hitched in her throat.

This seemed to please Sweet Pea, because his lips part just a smidge, just enough so that when he breathes out and in, Betty can almost feel the tension that he holds. He swipes his tongue over his lips, and Betty finds she copies the movement on her own lips.

His hand moves up.

Just an inch, but enough so that now his hand is under her dress.

She's never thought about how large his hands were, not until they were splayed across her thigh now, curling around her skin, leaving fire tingling wherever it touched.

His eyes focus hard on hers as it continues upward.

He has reached her hip. It seemed almost cruel in the way he was deliberate so that his hand curled more toward the back of her, than the front. His thumb brushes over her hip bone, exactly where the fabric of underwear would be if she had any on. He seems to be thinking the same thing. His other fingers are around the back of her figure, his fingernails digging lightly into the back of her ass.

Betty wonders if she presses forward if he'd be hard, if she could feel the heat from him on her, if it would cause her to lose any sense of logic. She imagines slipping her dress over her head in a sleek movement, she imagines her fingers fumbling with his belt buckle and shoving his jeans down his legs, an she imagines pulling him up against her.

She, honestly, is super-super turned on right now.

Sweet Pea's hand starts to move toward the front of her again, and now his hands are right next to her center, the only other people who have ever gotten so close down in this area being Jughead and her own hand. If he just reaches out a millimeter, he'll feel how slick she is. Betty is still focused on his eyes, and makes a small whining noise in the back of her throat. Her hips buck up, just a bit, and she is another moment away from begging Sweet Pea to continue forward, to press his fingers up into her.

There is the sound of cans clanking and immediately both are drawn out of their trance. Sweet Pea runs to the window and cusses.

"A walker made it through. Go put underwear on, I'll deal with this," He says, grabbing a knife off the table and thundering out the door before Betty can protest or do otherwise.

He's gone a while; she does not see him kill the walker, but he has to drag it off their property, or at least the general area.

She wonders if he's avoiding her.

When he comes back in, he says nothing of what nearly just happened, so Betty does not either. They just got caught up in the moment, right? Good thing they hadn't, she thinks, because people do stupid things when they're horney, which she imagines Sweet Pea is equally so as her. It might seem like the logical thing to perhaps offer a friends-with-benefits situation, but Betty thinks overall, if things go downhill, it would just be so awkward and bad in the house.

Yes, strictly celibate friends it is.

Still, that moment remains lodged in her subconscious, and she plays through it when she's alone, because everytime she does, she feels the unquenchable embers lighting deep in her stomach. It's enough to provide her with a mental imagine that she brings herself to completion on later that night, crying out against her palm, as she imagines what might have happened if that walker had not stopped them.

XXxxXX

 _October 24th, 2018_

One day, Betty gets her name.

Her nickname, that is. Rather, Sweet Pea announces it to her.

Well, announces is saying a bit much of it. It's about as unceremonious as one can get. He doesn't give a bow and deliver it on a silver platter or something, nor does he even tell Betty that's what it is. And to say that he'd been waiting to spring it on her might be overstating it too. If he has been, it's only been for a week. Sweet Pea has never been good at keeping secrets or withholding pleasure...and this for sure gives him some gleeful sense of joy that Betty is still glad he has.

Probably, she thinks, he settled on it just a day or two ago. She doesn't think he's been taking this un-seriously, no, not that. She just knows Sweet Pea well enough that when he was 100% on her all-important nickname, he'd release it.

It came ever-so casually. So casually that Betty, at first, thought he was sneezing or having a stroke or something.

They were trying to figure out a meal plan for the winter. Sweet Pea wanted a highlighter; his favorite color, specifically, a weird purple one that Betty thought was a pretty shitty highlighter to begin with. It was sorta just a maker to her, since it wasn't exactly fluorescent, but it was totally within Sweet Pea to like that specifically.

"Arianrhod."

At first, Betty just thought he was saying...well, she wasn't sure what he was saying. Song lyrics or something? Point being, she ignored it.

"Arianrhod."

Betty frowned, glancing up at him, nose scrunched up. He'd just said that, hadn't he? Sweet Pea was looking at her...expectantly?

She raised an eyebrow.

"Arianrhod, the purple one, please," He said, extending his hand out, speaking very specifically. Betty tongued the inside of her cheek, chuckling.

"You okay, Sweets? Are you...sneezing?" She knows he's saying the same word, but she couldn't tell you what that word is.

"No, Arianrhod, I'm not."

Betty tilted her head. She frowned.

Then, she understood.

"Oh!" She breathed out, grinning, "Is that it? My totally awesome protagonist name?" She asked.

"Yeah, yeah, it's _just_ a name, though," Sweet Pea tried to play it off, but he was bouncing with unhinged excitement. She knew he'd picked a few of the former Serpent's names, but there was probably something really special about him picking hers. She just couldn't put it into words, or rather, didn't want to say the words out loud.

Betty paused, "What is my name?"

"I've said it four times."

"No, yeah, I mean…" She waved a hand, "What _is_ it?" She wasn't even sure if she could pronounce it properly. Couldn't he have picked an easier name?

"Arianrhod," Sweet Pea said slowly. A shiver ran over Betty's skin, raising her goosebumps. When he curled his tongue around the 'r' sound in it, it was downright sinful. There was a certain breathiness to the name too, something that made it her new favorite word to hear him say. It sounded like hers, as she listened intently to the way he said it, and leaned into the pronunciation. As the words settled over her, she felt it was right.

That's how a name should be, though? The feeling that you owned it.

Betty owned this name.

"Okay, 'aaron-rod'?" She asked, trying to move her lips in the same pattern he had, but even as she spoke it, she knew it was a butchered attempt.

Sweet Pea laughed, his tongue flickering out to lick his lips.

"No, no. Not quite. Arainrhod." He said again.

"Air-rain-rod?" She tried again. Sweet Pea nodded.

"Closer."

"Okay, how do you spell it, then?" She asked, frustrated, but had expected nothing less of Sweet Pea. Giving her a name she could actually pronounce or recognized? Far too easy.

"Last freebie," Sweet Pea announced, holding up a finger, finding a scrap piece of paper. In big block letters, lunging across the table for his damned purple highlighter, he wrote 'A-R-I-A-N-R-H-O-D', which is not the way that Betty would have guessed to spell it in a million years. Underneath, wrote 'ari/an/rhod' which she assumed was the pronunciation. He gave the slip of paper to her in a flourish, and Betty carefully folded it to put in her back pocket, to then put in her bedside table.

"Cool. What is an Arianrhod?"

Sweet Pea made an irritating buzzer sound, crossing his arms, "That's now how the game works, Betts."

"What?"

"The game. Duh. You gotta figure out your name; what it means and why I gave it to you. I did give it to you for a reason. I didn't just pluck it from thin air. It has meaning." He said, scoffing, going back to highlight what their actual work was in the first place.

"Okay, okay," Betty aquiested, "What are the rules of the game?" She asked, when it was clear that he wasn't going to offer those up.

Sweet Pea looked up, a wicked smile on his face.

"Oh, Arianrhod, I'm so glad you asked."

Sweet Pea got up, going to their kitchen. Betty watched as he raided the kitchen for a second, before returning with a bottle of Jack Daniels. Betty winced at the sight of it; the last time she'd drank, it hadn't gone well. Or, she assumed it hadn't gone well, that being that she didn't remember any of it. That in itself was a pretty good indicator.

"Every time you want to know anything about the name, you have to take a shot. It used to be a shot of alcohol or a shot of something gross otherwise, like melted butter or tabasco sauce, but since we're saving those alcohol is the only thing we got left. Lucky for you," Sweet Pea said, looking pleased with himself, "Yes or no questions only. When you think you've figured your name out in full, you take a double shot to 'confirm' it."

"That sounds awful," Betty moaned, "Did you have to do that?"

"Well, when I joined, they hadn't made those rules yet. Plus, I already came with a nickname. This is strictly for those that wanted in on the fake-name fun, like Lann or Fangs." Sweet Pea tilted his head, "Fangs found out his name three times, but every time got so drunk he didn't remember the information he'd previously found out."

"That won't be me," Betty said firmly, "Gah, don't we have better stuff than that?"

"Well, we have wine, but that's not a shot," Sweet Pea scoffed, though Betty was a child learning a lesson, "Plus, we want something that can stay open a long time. Knowing you, you won't opt to figure it all out in one night."

Betty stared dubious at the colored liquor.

"No, I won't." She agreed.

"Are you going to do one right now?" Sweet Pea asked, shaking the handle.

Betty frowned, settling her clasped hands under her chin, pulling out the sheet of paper and staring at it in front of her for a long time.

"One," She finally decided, "But I'm going to do this right." She said firmly. She got up, jumping over the multiple books and resources they had scattered around their desk area, going to a cabinet on the far side to grab her notebook. They'd realized that notebooks were going to be a scarce commodity one day, and it was necessary to have records of certain things, such as crops or food- as they were doing now. They couldn't rely on electronics to work forever. Shitty thing about Mac computers, and computers in general, is they were made to be expendable one day, as they made new ones. So, even though it seemed to them now that they'd raided a Staples, there might come a day that they'd be savoring every scrap of paper their way. Therefore, they agreed that per every two years, they'd each get a 'personal notebook' each. They could do whatever they pleased with this notebook; diary, journal, make notes, write love songs...whatever. Betty got hers out. She'd written sparsely in it. She wanted to continue to journal, and did, but not on this. She'd have to figure out a more sustainable way later.

On a new page, she wrote 'Arianrhood' across the top margin. Then, a number '1'. Sweet Pea rolled his eyes.

"Only you, Coop," He said, which told her the name 'Cooper' wasn't being retired, not entirely.

"I'm not going to go through the process more than once," Betty scoffed, "Do I take the shot before or after?"

"I suppose it doesn't matter much."

"Okay, first." She said resolutely. Sweet Pea found a shot-glass, something Betty hadn't even been aware they had. However, it had a deer on it, which told her that maybe it was already present in the house when they'd arrived. It was a corporate retreat, why did they have shot glasses?

Maybe, she thought, the best way to truly bond with co-workers was through roaring parties and heavy drinking. Or maybe it was for the owner to have in between groups, as they cleaned up and wondered what they were doing with their life.

That was too sad. Whoever had owned this place was gone now, probably dead. Or not, and he'd show up here, and then that would be a whole other can of worms.

Or-,

"Stop thinking so hard. You'll pull a muscle," Sweet Pea said.

"I'm not even thinking about the name," Betty admitted after a long second.

"Bottoms up."

Betty looked at the shot with displeasure. She grabbed her water bottle sitting on the counter. Had the world been all good, she would have chased it with soda or something else, but water would have to do. She held her breath and poured it down her throat. Then, she chugged half of her water bottle.

"What is the point of that?"

"Usually, people do multiple questions in one night. It makes every question count. Still does for you, since you have to do that every time you want to know something. Plus, it's just fun to watch."

"I feel like you're bored," Betty grouched.

"A little, thank you for noticing."

"Okay, my question; in all of the books that we have in the house, is the name in one of them."

She wrote the question down as she spoke. If it was, then she just had to search for it. It may take forever (they had a lot of books, and maybe she'd take a couple more shots in later days to narrow it down), but she could find it. If he said no, it was going to take a whole lot longer to figure this out.

Sweet Pea smiled. For a second, she feared he was going to say 'no', just to irk her. Just to make this so much harder. She had never wished for the internet as much as she did right now.

"Yes, Arianrhod, it is."

* * *

 **Hello good people!  
** **As you can see, we're moving into some of that delicious unresolved sexual tension territory. I even tried to find a name of a song that was that, or a song about UST, but to no avail. if you find one or have one lemme know! There are lots more of these sexy chapters ;)**

 ***I like to imagine that Sweet Pea is a huge nerd. Originally, when i was planning this, I thought that this chapter would debut in April, before GOT, but May still works. However, as the season is going now, maybe SP should feel good that he'll never have to watch the burning trashcan that D &D have made it...**

 ***Betty has her nickname! If you wanna play along to guess her name, you can! I think there's six connections between Betty's name to Arianrhod that SP took to get there. So, you can ask through the reviews, you can PM me, you can go to my tumblr (youngbloodlex22) and PM me there or ask a question, as many as you like, but I'll only answer in yes or nos. I'd be interested to see if any of you can figure it out ;) Figuring out what the name means is only a very small part of it! There's a reason he picked it!**

 ***Finally, I have already written two chapters, nearly three a head. If I get a ton of reviews, I may consider updating in two weeks! So, show me some love :)**


	14. Track 13: Apocalypse Dreams

**Updating a little early 'cuz you all deserve it and I'm so excited for this chapter lalala**

 **Thank you to those that continue to review, you all are the real MPVs: Guest, Guest, Serpent818, Guest (May 18th), Ava, and jleeluv14!**

 **Guest: Super glad you like their charactarzation! I know SP's specifically is very different from other fics!**

 **Guest: Well, it was a little early :)**

 **Serpent818: I mean, SP is a beefy angry guy in this too, but he's so much more than that, as Betty is learning ;) Guys with no depth are just no fun**

 **Guest (May 18th): I'm not sure you'd find the name in previous chapters. I'd say that step one is figuring out what her name is, or what it comes from. Then, from there, it's sorta like a five step process to connect how Betty equals that. Some of the things may not relate to Betty specifically other than they form a chain. It's hard to explain but once she's figured it out, it'll be clear, or so I hope :)**

 **Ava: Yes, Arianrhod is an actual name of a 'person' (I say person very lightly, as you may figure out why) and he found it in a book**

* * *

 _November 21st, 2018_

After Betty kissed Sweet Pea, she told Veronica and Archie and Jughead first. She heard their responses. She was glad she told them.

But.. she didn't tell them, not really.

It was a weird moment, Betty sitting by the tree, speaking mostly to herself. She felt like she was telling them. She imagined that somehow, if they were still alive, they heard her.

It had been a couple weeks ago that she realized she was starting to forget Archie's voice. She couldn't bring forth the timbre of it, the way that he laughed, they way he tripped over his words when he was excited. This horrified Betty.

She had some voicemails on her phone, still saved. One from her mom, one even from her dad. None from Polly, and yes, she'd always be upset about this. She had one from Veronica, Archie, and Jughead. She even had one from Cheryl. She didn't have one from Kevin either, and that perhaps depressed her more than Polly. She would have rejoiced over a voicemail from Ethel or Moose if they had any occasion to call her, just because it would have felt like a part of her old classmates still existed. Just so that their voice was still somewhere, even if their bodies and mind were not.

She charged up her phone and laid under the tree, despite the growing cold, and just played them on repeat on speaker. She let the way they spoke invade her mind. She listened to the recordings of her loved ones so many times that she could repeat back the messages, word for word, syllable by syllable. She had played until her phone had died and needed to be recharged, until she had no more tears.

But that wasn't enough.

So, lately, she'd taken to speaking to their stones. She, at the start, had just imagined their silent responses in her mind. Or, even just their emotions to it. How when she was telling them about the new electronic she was working on, Archie would be confused, Veronica would probably find it a little boring, and Jughead would act like he knew what she was talking about just to encourage her to say more.

Now, in an effort to keep them alive, Betty went a step farther. She made herself be their voices, or their best approximation of what they might respond to, if she were telling them in real life. Sweet Pea didn't bother her by the tree, which was probably good. She would probably seem half-mad. Maybe she was half-mad, speaking for people that weren't there, making herself believe very strongly that in that moment, it wasn't her words, it was their words in her voice.

She would close her eyes, forcing herself to see them in front of her.

They were always at Riverdale High. It was inescapable. Betty had attempted to put them all in a different location, but when she wasn't thinking too hard about it, her imagination always drifted them back there. The four of them, on the couches, like they'd been so many times before. Betty, sitting next to Jughead. Archie and Veronica, across the way.

In recent times, Jughead's arm was not around her like it once was. Perhaps, all things considered, for the best. Especially, after yesterday's events.

They'd heard about it all leading up to this; about how she was sure he'd rejected her on her birthday celebration. About her growing affections. Not about the incident with the underwear. Well, only Veronica knew that, since that's something she'd absolutely tell Veronica. About...all of it.

They'd heard it all. She wasn't springing this on anyone, at least not without background. She could just come out and say it; 'I kissed Sweet Pea'.

She closed her eyes, and they were at the couches. She turned to Veronica first.

She imagined Veronica frowning, playing with her pearls, her legs daintily crossed. She was wearing a skirt and a long sleeve top, something with ruffles and a collar. Her hair was shining. She had deep burgundy lipstick on.

"Oh! Finally. I've been telling you you should just go for it," She sighed, rolling her eyes, "You know, I always found him cute, but moody isn't really my type. Apparently it's yours, though."

"V."

"I'm just saying. Not that you're replacing Jughead, god no, but you always like a good riddle. I prefer my men without subterfuge. There's enough of that in my family as it is," She said, splaying her fingers and sighing with exaggeration. Betty wasn't sure what problem was going on in the Lodge's in her mind palace, but when wasn't there something shady going on?

She turned to Archie next.

"Are you happy?" He asked, head tilted. His hair was mussed, unfixable wild. He was in just a plain t-shirt, his jeans scuffed and his shoes untied. He had a bruise from football blossoming across his cheek. Or maybe it was a fistfight. Betty hadn't decided.

"I think," Betty replied, biting her lip. Her mind was still all over the place. She hoped talking to them would help.

"Well, then I guess I can't beat him up...maybe just break his nose?"

"What? No!"

"Fine, fine," Archie laughed, "I'm gunna have to give him the 'big brother' talk, though. Or 'best guy friend'. Or whatever it is you wanna call it, but I'm gunna have it. Tell him not to ruin your virtue."

"Oh, we're long past that," Veronica purred, winking, "And besides, it's no fun if some mythical honor isn't shattered. Besides, Archibald Andrews, you're hardly one to go on about taking virtues!" She swatted his arm.

"Ronnie," He mumbled, face turning as crimson as his hair.

"I don't think it's anything," Betty chewed on her lip. If she had a pencil in her hand, she'd be chewing on that, "It was just a kiss."

"Just a kiss, oh," Veronica breathed out, "You're joking yourself, Betty."

Betty inhaled, turning to Jughead. She'd almost left him out of this. It was her mind, she could do that if she so pleased. However, it would feel like she was hiding the kiss, like she was ashamed of it. She wasn't.

In this situation, her and Jughead weren't dating. She didn't know why but they just weren't. But they were still friends. They loved each other too much not to be.

Out of the trio, she still held out hope that maybe Archie and Veronica were alive.

She knew Jughead wasn't.

She wished it was real. She wished she could reach out and inhale his flannel, touch the softness of his tshirt. She wished it was a dream, because at least then, it would feel like they weren't just projections that would flicker and reveal themselves to be fake as soon as she reached out.

Jughead was slouching, his laptop open. The 'S' shirt he owned in five different colors, all of which had been on sale at Walmart six years ago. A flannel wrapped around his waist. His serpent jacket pushed up his arms. But not his hat. As much as she wanted it there, her mental memory recalled her chucking it into the woods. Nature had his hat. He didn't anymore.

"Sweet Pea's…" Jughead started, sighing hard, "He's not the shittiest."

"Thanks," Betty scoffed.

"If you fell in love with Slash, I'd have serious concerns."

Betty smiled at him softly, warmly.

"I didn't though."

"He's still a criminal, may I remind you," Jughead's face was puckered, like it was whenever he was battling internally with himself.

"And that's maybe what's kept us alive," Betty said, nodding. She knew his past. She knew he was the ultimate example of a bad boy her mother would be horrified to find her with. It didn't matter anymore.

"Just don't be stupid," Jughead mumbled under his hand, "And, be happy."

"I'm going to try," Betty said honestly.

"Okay, okay, details!" Veronica interrupted, squealing, "Tell me exactly how this happened! I need it all. Was it a deep kiss? A short one? A bodice-ripper?"

Jughead made a sound that was nearly a choke. Archie shuddered.

"No, I don't want to know any of that!" Archie said, waving his arms.

Betty pursed his lips, shaking with laughter. She shared a look with Veronica. With a blink, she'd changed their location to just the two of them. To Veronica's bedroom, the last place they'd both been.

This is where she told Veronica every sordid detail that had happened up to a week ago. And, she'd been entirely planning on just telling V about something that happened five days ago, but hadn't the time...and then the kiss had happened.

Veronica, realizing this (even if it was by Betty's own design), lit up with excitement. She leaned forward, and if this was real, she'd probably grab Betty's hands. Instead, she offered Betty a glass of champagne. Betty wished she could actually taste it; Veronica always had really good stuff.

"This is a celebration. Now, skip no details."

Betty couldn't help but laugh.

"Yes, ma'am."

XXxxXX

 _November 6th, 2018_

It started two weeks ago. Betty woke up before Sweet Pea, which wasn't out of the usual, but unlike every other day, she felt compelled to stay in bed, under the warm covers. The coldness that continued to roll in was uncaring, so much so that Betty was wearing socks and sweatshirts to bed nightly.

Sweet Pea was close to her. When she woke up, she could feel his hand splayed over her midriff, creeping under her hem to seek the warmth of her skin. It wasn't out of the ordinary for the pair to seek each other's hands in the middle of the night, reaching across the darkness and the chill to reassure each other of the presence. Somehow, during the night, his hand had migrated to her side. He wasn't spooning her or holding her in, his arm was stretched the length of the bed. It still was unexpected, but also a comfort.

Betty woke up facing him. She didn't want to move.

It was late enough in the day that the sun was flitting through the curtains, so maybe 8 or 9 am. The days were just growing shorter and shorter of late, which was starting to mentally mess up Betty. She knew they would continue to shorten and was already preparing herself for the long nights.

She breathed softly, careful not to wake Sweet Pea. She just watched him sleep.

He'd done this with her, so long ago when they were on the move. She hadn't really gotten a moment where she wanted to examine him sleeping, nor a time to do it properly. Not until now, anyway.

When he was sleeping, he seemed so young. It was such a cliche, she knew, but it was a lot easier to look at him and see an eighteen-year-old kid way in over his head as compared to a gang member with multiple tattoos. His hair was mussed, curled every which way, and a light shadow of stubble was growing on his jaw. Even with the beginning of facial hair, everything else about him was soft looking.

She remembered when they were both in Riverdale High together, back before she knew him at all, and she recalled he was always scowling. His face was always twisted into a frown, his arms always across his chest like he was protecting himself. Three layers; his nickname, his jacket, and finally his arms. It screamed that he wasn't letting anyone in, emotionally or otherwise, and he'd sooner stab you as a warning than offer you a hand.

He didn't scowl much anymore, Betty recanted after a second. To compare him to the surly Serpent from their past seemed so wrong. Disjointed. He felt like an entirely different person. He smiled more, he enjoyed life. He didn't have any of those protective barriers on anymore; his serpent jacket was worn only as an aid against the cold, Betty called him 'Jordan' at least once a day, and right now his arms were reaching toward Betty on the bed.

He was so different.

Jughead, she thought after a second, it reminded her of Jughead. How a boy who was also always scowling and never took off his hat somehow, around Betty, began to smile and sometimes forgot to put his hat back on. She had encouraged him to open up, just how she'd done with Sweet Pea.

 _It's because he loved you,_ a voice told her, one that sounded like Veronica.

Betty jolted back, without intending to make such a jumped movement, waking Sweet Pea. Any time she had to stare at him while he was sleeping was over.

"Mhh, we oversleep?" Sweet Pea asked, rubbing his eyes as he flopped over, running his fingers through his hair.

"Not by much," Betty whispered, her voice hoarser than it should be.

Veronica- or, really, her conscious- had been talking about Jughead. It was true that Jughead had loved her and it was also true that because of this, he'd opened up. Just because it was not a falsehood with one grumpy Serpent didn't mean it was the same for another one.

But oh, how Betty almost wished it was.

XXxxXX

After a fairly average day; chopping firewood, sorting cans, and checking their deer jerky, Betty was planning to finish the day surrounded by books.

She'd asked two more sacred questions in regards to her name, only when it became clear she was going to drown if she tried to search through all these books one by one. She had spent a long time deciding on the right things to ask, and finally, she'd whittled it down to two more questions.

Q: Is my nickname a name (that is to say, not an object or descriptive word or something)

A: Yes

Q: Is my name in a fictitious novel

A: No.

So, this told her that she was looking for a proper noun somewhere in the non-fiction and reference books scattered in their basement, where they were keeping all the things for fun/pleasure. It still was a large amount of books to sort through; two or three bookshelves worth, if they had them nicely organized instead of in semi helter-skelter piles, but it was a start. Betty had been toying with the idea of asking what nationality the name hailed from, because it's pronunciation was not English, and that would be mighty helpful for which would tell her where to begin. However, she really didn't want to play 100 shots to 100 different countries, so she needed a better way to phrase the question.

As it was, she knew when she found her name in a book, that wouldn't be the end of it. She might understand what the word actually was, but that might not even be half of it. Sweet Pea had said her name had meaning. There would be a reason why Betty was called that and she would have to suss it out. It was the end of the world, meaning that Sweet Pea could have made this as difficult as he so pleased. They had all the time anyone ever had.

She liked the mental puzzle, however, and it piqued her interest more than it frustrated her.

"You're not going to find your name in there tonight," Sweet Pea said, startling her.

"How long have you been watching me?"

"Long enough to know you're nowhere close."

Betty shut the book with a snap. Was he saying that truthfully, or trying to throw her off the trail, just for shits and giggles?

"C'mon, I have something better," Sweets said, waving a hand upstairs.

Curious, Betty abandoned her searching to follow him.

"Ta-da!"

Sweet Pea swept his hand over to the living room. Betty blinked, taking in what she was seeing. Fire in the fireplace, making the area toasty. A bowl of popcorn. Two sodas; Sprite. A little...well, it looked like a computer set up.

"Am I missing something? Are we celebrating?" Betty asked, tilting her head.

"Yeah. Being alive." Sweet Pea eagerly led her to the couch, "We might not have the food- that sort of pop and circumstance- every night, but we can have one bag of popcorn now, and this Sprite is probably flat af, but sit." He said firmly. Betty did so.

"A portable movie player," Betty choked out with slight laughter. She hadn't seen one of those in years. She recalled being very young, five or six or something, and Alice Cooper balancing one of these between the seats of the driver and shotgun seats of a car for her daughters to watch a Barbie movie.

"Rechargeable battery. I figure that if we don't use up any of our battery stock and just recharge it daily with the solar power blocks, we're golden, right?"

"Yeah, theoretically." Betty paused, then grinned, "This means we can watch T.V again!"

"Bingo!" Sweet Pea said, "And look what I found that the owner here has…" He held up a large box set in front of them.

" _The Office_?"

"Glad that this owner dude had a sense of humor about it." Sweet Pea said, "And he has all the season in a box set. It's all here. Betty, we can watch _The Office_."

"Yes, let's, yes," Betty was nodding her head in excitement, "I used to love that show…"

"Who didn't?" He rubbed his hands, "Okay, so, there's 201 episodes. If we think that winter starts now, today, basically, and we watch two episodes a night that should just about bring us to spring. Next winter, we'll find another show to watch. I mean, how many people are raiding and taking box sets of DVDs...probably not many," Sweet Pea said.

"Just two a night. That'll be a challenge."

"I know. But I believe in our willpower." Sweet Pea handed her a Sprite and hopped on the couch. Betty conservatively sat a pillow's with away from Sweet Pea. He tugged up a blanket and scoffed, "Uhm, I won't bite."

He was balancing the player on the edge of the table. It was a pretty small screen, not like the gigantic TV in front of them that Betty didn't dare use, but it was better than nothing.

"I-," Betty blushed, looking at the space that he was offering, nestled under his arm, against his chest.

"I don't think I have cooties either," He teased further, "Maybe you do though…"

"Oh, shut up," Betty grouched, crossing the couch to sit against him. He dropped his arm on the back on the couch, not so that it was around her, but still so that she was near him. She leaned back, resting her head on his extended arm.

"You going to press play?"

"Bossy, bossy," Sweets raised an eyebrow.

As the oh-so-familiar theme song cued up, Sweet Pea grinned.

"I'mma learn to play that on piano this winter."

"Good. Now shush, I'm one of those that will kill you if you talk while the episode is playing." Betty said, already engrossed.

"Betty Cooper, throwing fists over Michael Scott."

XXxxXX

 _November 15th, 2018_

How long does it take for something to become too comfortable? To feel normal? To feel average?

For the nightly T.V. sessions with Sweets, less than two weeks. In fact, after the first week, it was in such a pattern that Betty got excited about it, and didn't feel like the day had truly ended until they watched the misadventures of Dunder Mifflin, if only for 40 minutes to end the night.

Staring to watch The Office with Sweet Pea hadn't been something that Betty felt was worth it to mention. It was just something they did for fun.

In the light of the whole story, she felt like she had to explain that to Veronica, so that she understood it all.

Five days ago was when the first trouble happened.

Betty considered the word trouble not to quite be right. Maybe 'occurrence' would be better. Or maybe Veronica would give her a better word. Unlikely, since Veronica was only a figment of her imagination.

She was getting distracted. The wording didn't matter as much as the event.

It had been, by all accounts, an average day. As average as they come. Most of the day she'd spent apart from Sweet Pea, to be honest, as he harvested some of the lingering fall crops and Betty attempted to tackle the water once again, or at least brainstormed a better way to bathe during the winter, and do so warmly.

Then, they'd retired to the couch for their two episodes, they were somewhere smack-dab in season 2. They'd laughed about the antics and discussed how Pam and Jim were obviously meant to be together, as well as discussed the magnanimous asshole that Michael had been in the first couple of seasons, before he became a better(ish) person.

Then they went to bed.

That was the trouble.

Betty's dreams tonight took her no further than her own bed. In fact, at first she thought she'd woken up already, having a dreamless slumber. It was warmer, though, much warmer than it currently was outside. Something felt different about the room too, something felt lived-in.

And it wasn't the sun that woke her up, but the feeling of someone going down on her.

Betty moaned a little, squirming, before pulling the person up. Though her eyes were open, she couldn't see the face of the person, she could just feel the calloused hands that cupped her jaw, that trailed down her skin and left goosebumps on the trail, that tumbed over her lips before their mouth was on hers. Betty felt like this was a gesture that had been done many times, so she wrapped her arms around them, and let out a little moan of pleasure as the figure above her slid into her.

She knew it was a dream then, all her feelings felt weirdly arranged, like this was a memory or like someone was describing it to Betty. Like she was watching her own moment, standing outside of her body as she had sex. She didn't feel sore, as she might thought she was after months of not engaging in this way, but she had the acute feeling like this was normal. This occurrence happened often.

It was only as Betty reached her climax that she was put back into her body. It was as though her eyes were finally opened, the room was bright and she could see the face above her.

Sweet's.

Worn by time, different, but it was undoubtedly Sweet Pea. He had a beard; not a pathetic highschool beard, or the slightly patchy one he was growing in, but a bushy one that probably needed a good trim. Some of his teenage chub had vanished from his face, leaving it sharper and more beautiful than before. His face was tanned, his eyes were twinkling. If Betty had been contemplating how very young he looked just a few weeks ago, now she was looking up at this face in wonder, thinking of all the time that passed.

Time that passed; some much had changed, to have him gently kiss her forehead as he rolled off her, and she sat up, feeling older herself, though she didn't know why. Still, all the things that were the same, the fact they were in this bedroom, in this safehouse. How many years had it been? Was the world still dead? She had so many questions about a dream that may just be that...a dream.

"Love you," Sweet Pea said casually as he rubbed her head, ruffling her hair, leaning down to press a chaste but soft and meaningful kiss on her lips, "I'll see you downstairs. Less you want to go for another round," He added with a wink.

Betty, on the cusp of answering, was thrown out of her dream.

Daylight bathed her, but coldness. She shot up, glancing around the room to see it as she'd fallen asleep. Sweet Pea next to her, still young, but far away.

Sweet Pea woke up by her jostled movement.

"You go down first," Betty fibbed, "I'm feeling a little ill. I think I just was tossing all night. Come wake me back up in an hour, okay?"

"You sure it's just that?" Sweet Pea reached across the space, feeling her forehead, "You're flushed."

Betty bit her lip, trying so very hard not to imagine Sweet Pea naked, as she had in her dream, and tried to keep from wondering if it was true. She was flushed because she was turned on, goddammit.

"I am. Just need a little more sleep," She promised. Sweet Pea looked like he didn't want to leave her, but finally nodded.

"Feel better."

As soon as he left, Betty tried to rationalize. She had sex dreams about people all the time. She'd had them about everyone, and that rarely ever meant it was going to come true or that she liked them. This had felt different, however, sort of like a premonition. She couldn't put her finger on it, but it felt _real_.

But that was too much to focus on, at least right now. The first thing Betty did was get herself off, biting her lip to keep quiet, try to keep his name from escaping on her lips, but it was inevitable. As she finished, a quiet, low moan of 'Sweets…' slid off her tongue.

Then, to not be lying to Sweet Pea, Betty tried to lul herself back to sleep. She told herself it was because she was truly exhausted. The part she didn't want to admit right then was because she was hoping that maybe she'd wake back up whenever that moment had been, that she'd get to feel what it was like to live with Sweet Pea as _hers_.

That, she told Veronica, was the trouble.

XXxxXX

 _November 20th, 2018_

Try as she might, the dream haunted her for the next five days. After the first day, she was able to look at Sweet Pea without blushing again, but that didn't mean it didn't linger. She'd done an okay job of managing her sexual needs, to say that she didn't feel them frequently anymore, but it was as though that dream had lighted something underneath her. She felt horny all the time now, something she was loathe to admit. Loathed because that meant having to get herself off quietly and quickly when Sweet Pea wasn't paying attention, stealing moments in the bathroom or in the morning.

Everything else continued on as it had before. Betty realized the sharp difference between the world and their routine moving forward compared to her need for Sweet Pea and being unable to actualize it. It was almost funny, she thought. This was hell...absolute hell...having Sweet Pea so close to her, but unable to get him how she truly wanted.

After the second day post dream, Betty stopped feeling weird about snuggling up next to him. If he was offering, Betty wasn't going to say no. Leaving the night with his scent curling around her only aided in her midnight moments, and a part of her wanted to feel how dream Sweet Pea had wrapped her up in his warm arms. In fact, in the last couple days, they'd gotten very comfortable in the way that they sat. Both under the blankets, his arm completely over her shoulder. Not grasping, just sitting, but no longer on the couch behind them. Betty's head at his chest, so she could hear the steady 'thump' of his heart repeated over and over, like a metronome, vibrating in the back as they watched TV.

She used to do this with Jughead. The pair of them would curl up on her parent's couch and watch Netflix on weekends. Maybe that's the problem. Maybe it felt too comfortable, and she was equating her moments here to the moments there. Maybe a wire got crossed somewhere. Maybe she wasn't thinking of Jughead at all, but her feeling of absolute safety was stemming from the dream, where their being together had felt like what she imagined being married felt like. Domestic, unsurprising, a moment between the two of them and no one else.

She went over all these reasons a thousand times in her head. The real truth of it was simple...when she'd done it, Betty hadn't really been thinking. She hadn't been thinking at all, as much as Betty was simply doing and feeling.

They were watching 'Conflict Resolution', the episode right before 'Casino Night', which was in Betty's favorite episodes for that kiss at the end, the one that she remembered had her fist-pumping and pushing Polly saying 'I told you' about Pam and Jim. It was ironic, looking back. Or poetic, she told Veronica. Take your pick.

In between episodes, Sweet Pea stretched.

"Next one, Arianrhod!" He commanded teasingly.

"I'm getting it, one sec," Betty said, shifting so she could press the play button. She did, but as she was settling back, she looked up at Sweet Pea. She, admittedly, used to casually kiss Jughead often. Just to remind him of her affections.

She wasn't thinking of Jughead in this moment, she was thinking of future Sweet Pea, and somehow, that's as far as her thoughts went.

She didn't really realize what she'd done at first, it was only later she counted it back and realized that she'd leaned up, angled her chin toward Sweet Pea and stretched her neck up to land a soft, meaningful kiss on his lips, just as his alter in the dream had. Like it was nothing. Like they were that older dream couple. Not like they were currently.

She might have stuttered out an apology, had she been given time for her brain to catch up with her actions. Instead, she was suddenly laying backwards on the couch. The jingle of the theme was playing in the background, but it was distant, so far away.

Sweet Pea had flipped her as easily as she were a bag of flour, so she was staring up. One hand grasped both of her wrists above her head, holding them there. It didn't hurt, he wasn't being unnecessarily rough, but he wasn't letting her go either. His other hand was right by her head, holding him up. He was shaking above her.

She caught the expression in his eyes, just a swift flicker, something between awe, confusion, hope, disbelief...but the most overpowering was lust. Then, he dove down to kiss her.

All of this happened instantaneously, to be honest. The movement of Sweet Pea flipping her to kissing Betty was as quick as as a snap of her fingers.

While Betty's kiss had been innocent, Sweet Pea's was not.

Angry would have been a good term, though he wasn't trying to hurt her. As he kissed her hard, his teeth clanking against hers and his breath hot, one hand moved to hold her head so she didn't bump it uncomfortably against the edge of the couch. The other hand had snaked to her breasts, touching them above her shirt, but pinching and circling.

With her wrists now free, Betty curled her fingers at the nape of his neck, pulling on his hair, encouraging this. Their legs tangled, aided by the blanket that was impossibly knotted between them, she could feel as he began to press against her, his own need just as pressing as her own current desire.

It took a couple shuddered movements, but in between kissing her so hard that she was gasping for breath, he'd managed to situate himself between her legs, pressing up against her inner thighs, the friction so lovely that Betty thought she may pass out. There was still layers between them; Sweet Pea's jeans, Betty's sweatpants. Like that day, where they'd almost tipped the line, Betty just knew he wasn't wearing any underwear, and her own were pretty much toast at this point.

Feeling bold, she started to snake her hand between them, murmuring a quiet, 'yes, please' when he took a moment to breathe.

That snapped him out of it.

He jumped off like Betty had static-shocked him, panting hard, staring at Betty with his eyebrows knit and face set in stone. His chest heaved and all those emotions that had been present before were just replaced with one that she could not read, but he seemed upset.

Betty sat up on her elbows, licking her tongue over her lips, feeling how puffy they were. Her hair was half out of the ponytail, her shirt yanked precariously off her shoulders. Her skin was sticky warm, the blanket feeling dampened with their sweat.

"Sweets…" Betty breathed, unsure what to say now.

"I-," Sweet Pea managed to say, even that one phrase mangled, before he shook his head hard, stomping off.

Betty waited for an amount of time; she didn't know the exact measure. When she realized Sweet Pea wasn't coming back, she went to find him.

He was hunched over the sink, albeit the defunct sink that just had a water bucket next to it, shoulders hunched as he clutched the countertop, still breathing heavily. Betty's own heart was still fluttering.  
"Sweet Pea?"

He jumped, turning around. His eyes were rimmed red, and he inhaled hard, his breath coming out so uneven.

"Yeah?" His voice crackled, and he sniffed, angrily swiped the edge of his shirt over his face, jaw clenched.

"I...I'm sorry. I shouldn't have just kissed you like that," Betty fumbled, playing with the sleeves of her sweatshirt, the oversized nature covering her knuckles, drowning her up to her knees almost. It was a men's. She wished it was Sweet Pea's, but it was just a generic guy's sweatshirt they'd found before, and comfortable as hell.

"I kiss you back," He reminded her, leaning up against the threshold of the door.

"Yeah, but," Betty was unable to articulate how awful she felt, "I crossed the line." She finished. She shouldn't be doing that, not to him. It wasn't fair to him, when he didn't want her. He probably just got caught up in the moment, maybe he imagined she was a girlfriend from back home or something, "I don't blame you."

"Betts…" Sweet Pea winced hard.

"Just...uggh, can we pretend it didn't happen?"

"But it did." Sweet Pea replied tonelessly.

"I know, I know," Betty snapped, "But it's making us both miserable already!" She wanted to forget that she'd done that, forget how wonderful it felt to have him kiss her, she wanted to erase the temptation of a man she couldn't have from her very mind. It would drive her insane.

"Miserable," Sweet Pea repeated slowly. He gave a long sigh, "Fine. We will."

A part of Betty's stomach jumped. A part of her knew that that line couldn't be uncrossed, whatever come what may with that territory. They could pretend, as they were right now, but there was a storm coming. It would come back, she told herself, and a part of her clung to it like a promise.

"You...need to talk about something?" Betty asked, examining him. He wiped off his face with the towel.

"No, I'm cool. We still have another episode of The Office, don't we?" He asked with a forced cheeriness.

"Erm, yeah," Betty said, but she was sort of dreading the next title.

"Well, let's," He said simply.

He offered her his arm again, truly trying to show he didn't want any awkwardness or that he was pretending it hadn't happened, and Betty didn't want to eat her own promises, so she accepted.

Somewhere in the back of her mind, the kiss had been familiar. She told herself that it was the dream, but somewhere...somewhere she felt like it had been before.

In the dim light of the room, with only the light from the TV player, Betty gently touched her lips, the whisper of a forgotten moment lingering still.

* * *

 **So, even though they agreed to 'let it go' I can 100% confirm that that is not going to happen. It won't be like the first rain kiss where it was conveniently able to be forgotten, this is the crossing point that they can't uncross. It is going to just go downhill (or, for all of ya'lls enjoyment) uphill from here...as in, we are going to get to rated M extremely soon.**

 **I hope you all are just as psyched for that as I am!**

 **As always, if you are enjoying this, consider taking a moment to drop a review :) You all can also ask as many 'yes/no' questions in your review as you want to try to figure out her name!**


	15. Track 14: We Might Be Dead By Tomorrow

**Hope you all are excited about this chapter! All I'll say is this is where the 'M' rating actually starts to come in ;)**

 **Thank you to those who reviewed: Sarai Carrasco, victorialexington, Guest, Chloee0x0, Guest, Ava, NameNature, Guest, and serpentgirl226.**

 **Guest: Indeed it is!**

 **Guest: Super, super slow burn. But don't fear, we're finally getting somewhere.**

 **Ava: Spiritual, yes, but not really like the bible. I do feel as though you're getting close to the first step of the puzzle with that question though!**

 **NameNature: Thank you so much! That's the sweetest comment! I love making SP, and making him a softie-nerd is so much more fun hehe**

 **Guest: I hope you enjoy this new chapter!**

 **serpentgirl226: I just love all of the Office, but gdarn Casino Night always makes my heart happy!**

* * *

 **The song for this chapter is We Might Be Dead by Tomorrow by Soko, which although this chapter is in Betty's POV, remember it's Sweet Pea picking the song titles, which might give you a peek inside his mind for later on this chapter.**

* * *

 _November 25th, 2018_

Betty's teeth chattered. She curled her body all the way up, scrunched in a compact ball, twisting herself to wrap the blanket around her shivering form. The hood of her sweatshirt was pulled over her face, the strings pulled taut. Her fingers pressed into her armpits, desperately seeking the warmth they provided there.

Next to her, she heard Sweet Pea shifting.

"Fucking hell, Cooper," He yawned groggily, "I can literally hear how cold you are."

"Go back to sleep, Sweets." Betty stuttered out firmly, snapping down on her jaw to stifle the sound of her chills. She very firmly and specifically was not looking at him, facing the window.

"We can put some wood in the fire-,"

"Are you cold?"

Sweet Pea moved, and Betty could imagine him dragging his hand over his face as he cussed again.

"If you're an icicle, then it shouldn't matter." He argued angrily, "I can throw off blankets."

"Just like I can get another one," Betty said sharply. It didn't make sense to be using up their firewood already, not when she was perpetually cold.

"Yeah, you're moving really fast," Sweet Pea's voice was sardonic. Betty was thinking very hard about getting another blanket, true, but the bed here was so much warmer than the air out there that it was making it hard to convince herself of this. Not that she found the bed toasty warm, her toes were particularly cold, but outside was a whole other story.

"I'll do it," She grumbled, starting to untangle herself from the heavy quilts, mentally preparing herself to step down on the freezing floor, across the hall to their storage. Before that could happen, Sweet Pea was grasping her middle, pulling Betty firmly against him.

"What are you doing?" Betty choked out, feeling her breath shortened.

"Sharing body heat, because you're absolutely stubborn," He growled, shifting as they both found a way to settle their bodies together.

"Jordan…" Betty breathed out, finding all kinds of problems to this, none she dared admit out loud.

"It's either this or we start putting the fire on during the night too." Sweet Pea said firmly. Betty understood he was serious. She weighed the options. Finally, she sighed.

"You win, okay?" She said, pulling her fingers up to puff warm air into them, "You are warm."

Sweet Pea had managed to find a way where he was keeping Betty right up against him, without being crass. She could feel him adjusting their pillows together to create one long log instead of two distinct sides. His forehead pressed into the back of his neck.

"You comfortable?" He asked, sounding drowsy.

"Yeah," Betty replied quietly, though that wasn't the half of it. She wasn't just comfortable, she didn't want to let him go.

"Good. Now please, go to sleep."

 _December 7th, 2018_

By the time that snow blanketed the world, Sweet Pea and Betty had been spooning for nearly two weeks. Even when they started stoking the fire with a few precious logs, they automatically still eased into each other's arms to fall asleep, sharing the heat between them.

Betty thought about how their lives were just pushing them more and more into each other's arms, literally. Nine hours of the day were spent in each other's arms; one hour watching The Office, eight hours asleep.

Sometimes the bed and room even got overheated; Betty would wake up in the middle of the night, her skin damp with half-dried sweat, the sheets around her legs moist . Sweet Pea was just so warm. She'd scoot over an inch, allowing the cool air to flow, but by the morning she was always in the same place she started.

Sweet Pea had never been shy in engulfing her. He, from the first night, curled her up in his arms like a familiar lover. He didn't shy away, but he was careful not to intentionally stray his fingers too far up or down. There were times, in the middle of the night, where his hand would find her hair, and that motion felt just as intimate as though he was kissing her.

Betty woke up first in the mornings, as previously established. She did her best when she went to sleep to angle her body slightly away from his, but it was a lost cause. He always pulled her flush against him. Because of this, more than once, Betty had woken up to feel his hard-on.

She didn't hold it against him; it was a natural bodily response. She also didn't assume it was because of her. She was only flustered about it when she thought about it in regards to her own personal fantasies.

Usually, she just slid out of the covers before he woke, no problem. Sometimes, though, as she began to stir, he would as well. Mostly asleep, he'd start to rub up against her, just a few sleepy motions. Betty was always so torn, wishing he'd do more and wanting to escape as soon as possible.

She always was more responsible. She peeled herself off him, shook out her dirty thoughts, and started her day.

 _December 11th, 2018_

Veronica's birthday falls early December. She can't describe it, but somehow having an icy birthdate seems appropriate for her sly friend.

Sweet Pea knows. She has all of the important dates— birthdays and anniversaries — saved in Sweet Pea's iPhone, in the calendar section. He filled in his as well, and despite Betty only getting a chance to glance at it on few occasions, she remembers the dates well. She knows that Toni's birthday is near Christmas, so that's coming up too.

Betty has been working on Veronica's stone in her spare time. She hesitates to call it a headstone, for that alludes to a death, whereas she is sure that out of everyone, she'd list Veronica in her top three for surviving this. Cheryl and her own psychotic father brings up the other two. Sweet Pea mentioned once he'd assumed Hiram would have done well, but Betty disagreed. If not for the fact that he was unquestionably dead, he was too much of a villain to have people not come for him. It's like the Purge, you know? Even Sweet Pea, as soon as society fell apart, went looking for blood.

"What 'bout your dad?" Sweet Pea questioned.

He was good, Betty argued, most of his life. Or, people thought him good. After all the news came out, half the town shunned the Coopers. The other half were still staring in slack-jawed disbelief, arguing that Hal Cooper couldn't possibly be a serial killer. Not Hal, who cried at Polly's first communion, or who organized the block party every year, or who was at more of his children's events than their mother. People who argued that they had the wrong guy, how Hal obviously was coerced into giving the Sheriff a victim.

Betty had hated those people more than the people who had egged her house. She'd looked into her father's eyes, she'd seen the evilness there. Someone could be good and bad all at the same time, and her father embodied that more than anyone else she'd ever known.

So no, not a lot of people went looking for her father's head first. If he survived the first few days of chaos, managed to get out of Riverdale or the surrounding cities, he'd be okay.

Betty was still struggling with what she'd do if she ever saw him again; hug him or kill him herself.

Betty thinks that, like her dad, Veronica is just the right mixture of good and questionable to survive this harsh world. She thinks that Veronica might be able to extend this grace to others, that she might have been able to keep Archie alive. Oh, how she hopes.

Next summer, she'll do Jughead's stone justice. She'll paint it just as brilliantly as she does Veronica's. She's not a great artist, she knows, but she's tried. She's covered the entire uneven surface of the front in purple flowers, pears, and a lace pattern with the many cans of paint from the garage. She copied a beautiful font from the front of a book, Veronica's name looking regal where it's printed.

"Don't stay out too long, it's super cold," Sweet Pea says as she bundles up to go outside. Hat, expensive arctic coat, gloves, scarf...the works.

"I won't," She says, her voice muffled by the scarf over her lips. They go out once a week to check traps and hunt. Today they'd opted to stay inside because of the chill. The thermostat is quoting a frigid 18 degrees, but with the windchill, it has to be worse.

To go out and dig the snow out to place Veronica's stone in the hole she's already dug will take ten minutes, tops. She's not going to talk today. They just don't have the time.

It's snowing outside. Betty flexes her fingers to keep the blood flowing through them.

The tree looks sad with no branches, having shed it's summer cape long before now. It looks twisted, like bony fingers, stretching out to greet her.

Betty sets the rock down on the snow next to where she thinks the hole might be and starts to dig.

It's not there, which means that her perspective is out of whack, or somehow it got filled back in. She had taken a little plastic beach shovel with her into the snow, but her hands are already starting to numb.

As she's walking to the left, thinking maybe she switched Veronica's location with Archie's or Polly's, she trips.

It takes a second too long, a terrifying second, to realize it's not that she tripped so much as she has been tripped.

A withered hand grasps at her ankle. Betty's face is full of snow and sort of stings. As the snow melts and the air hits her cheeks, it actually sort of hurts. Or maybe she's scratched herself up.

There's tugging on her ankle, and until Betty turns around, she thinks she's really shoved her foot in a root. The utmost feeling of fear that stops her heart, and then sends it beating unreasonably fast, overwhelmed her. She screams, kicking her feet, hoping to dislodge it from the walker. From the snow, like a spirit rising from the dead, the walker snaps its jaws close to her leg. In her shoving, her pant leg has been pushed up, exposing her flesh. It bites far too close for comfort, Betty only managing to move her leg at the last second.

She's scrambling backwards. Trying to kick the head, but having no success. Her kicks are frantic, imprecise. She has the plastic shovel in her hand and shoves it forward. It lodges in the chest of the walker, but when Betty tries to tug it out, she finds it stuck.

Panic grips her as the walker shakes off the snow. It can't walk great on the snow, but it has enough mobility to be gaining on Betty. In the interim of shoving herself back and the walker advancing, Betty uselessly fumbled with the zipper of her pants, where a box cutter is or a switchblade is always housed, for instances like this. Her fingers are too cold to open it, and she realizes that she's out of options.

Last ditch, and probably stupid, Betty's fingers dig around the snow around her for help.

She brushes against Veronica's stone.

Just as the walker is snapping above her like a rabid dog, Betty takes all her strength to bash it's head in. It collapses on top of her, the stench of death piercing through the sharpness of the snow. She keeps hitting until the head is brownish-black sinew on her chest, until she is sure it's dead.

The rock, once so beautifully painted, is now impossibly smeared with walker guts and basically ruined. But, it saved her life.

Betty doesn't realize she's sobbing, laying in the snow, until she feels a tightness on her cheeks as the tears crystallize into ice. With all the effort left in her limbs, Betty pushes the walker off of her. It's blood is everywhere on her face, gross skull and mushy brain bits in her hair. She figures that this noise would have brought more walkers up from them ground, if they were there, so she's safe.

There's a tear in the chicken wire near the tree, a place where a falling tree branch has left a nice open door for any unfriendliness. Betty cannot fathom fixing this right now, in her current state, so she trudges up back to the house.

Sweet Pea is already meeting her halfway, coat half-way on, eyes wide.

"You never came back," He breathed out, "Betty, what-,"

"The fence is down," Betty said simply, "I'm going to go take a bath."

"You take care of that, I'll go fix the fence." He says without question. Before Betty slips past him, he grasps her, pulling her against his chest.

"You'll get dirty," she weakly protests.

"Fucking hell, you think I care? I'm just glad you're safe."

He holds onto her for way longer than normal, but Betty just feels numb. Numb cold and numb emotionless. She just stands there.

When he pulls back, there's a moment of unsureness in his posture, as though he's not sure what he wants to do next. There's a jolted movement, one where Betty thinks he maybe was going to kiss her- not her lips, but her head or her cheek or give her some reassurance. However, he ends up just stepping back completely, wiping an ungloved hand over her cheeks, rubbing away some of the scum there. She feels like she should scold him, or give him her oversized gloves, since she won't need them in the house. This thought only hits once she's already inside and she turns back, watching Sweet Pea zip up his jacket and stuff his hands in his pockets, his breath clouding in front of him.

Betty goes straight for the bathroom. She strips off her dirty clothes and jacket throughout the house, leaving them like a twisted crumb trail to herself. Her feet drags mud, blood, and water through the carpets, onto the hardwood floors. She stands naked in the master bath, staring at the splattered pattern across her face, the tendrils of she didn't even want to know what hanging from her hair. She took the effort to heat bath water, despite the misuse of the resources of water, time, and firewood, but something inside her was very close to breaking and she didn't know why.

She wipes most of the guck off before even submerging herself in the water. She uses a towel and a bucket of cold water to take off as much as she can. She waits until the water is steaming, almost too hot to be enjoyable. She fills it up so that if she lays in the master bath, she'd be nearly completely submerged.

When she steps into the water, it stings before her skin acclimates. She crawls into the porcelain tub, limbs shaky like a newborn foal. The water started to muddy, turning a putrid black-red-brown hue that, to Betty, looked like death.

Like she had no bones at all, as she curled up into a fetal egg shape, she tipped and slipped over until she was submerged with just her neck above the water. Her lip quivered for a couple seconds before she couldn't hold it in any longer. She pressed her hand across her mouth to try to stifle her crying, though she didn't know why. She doubted Sweet Pea would be sitting there teasing her.

A certain sadness mixed with anger washed through her.

Back in Riverdale, she always used to sort of judge Veronica. Okay, so she judged people all the time, but she often tried really hard not to judge her best friends, as she knew it was one of her most annoying qualities. She teasingly judged Jug when they were dating, she only judged Archie when he was doing something stupid (but, as they'd gotten older, that was all the time it seemed), but Veronica was often free from her raised eyebrows and disbelieving 'hmms'.

Except when it came to Hiram Lodge.

She thought she'd never understand it. Veronica was one of the few people that Betty felt matched her own intelligence when it came to book smarts as well as practical life skills that wasn't completely insane (read; Cheryl Blossom). She always knew that Veronica could do anything she sets her mind to, rich or poor, she'd accomplish it. She had that sort of aura around her, of someone who people wanted to listen to, wanted to lead them. She had everything going for her...so why did she always try so hard to please her father?

Hiram Lodge was a bad guy. He was a cartoon villain. He was a fucking mob boss and had tried, on more than one occassion, to kill Veronica's _high school boyfriend_. If any of those previous things seemed totally okay to someone, and they shouldn't have, it was more than that he was just a toxic guy when it came to normal aspects of his life.

Yet, Veronica wanted to emulate him so much. For as many times as she bitched and moaned to Betty about whatever ploy he had going currently, Betty saw her trying to model herself around him...even if she was doing it unconsciously. The desire to make him see her was so deeply ingrained that Betty feared she may never be free of him.

But even when she had chances, she hesitated. When there were times that Betty would have never talked to that man again, as she was firmly settled with her own father (who, when comparing, was equal or less to the havoc and misery Hiram had caused, and that was saying a lot), Veronica hesitated. She hovered. She hemmed and hawed.

She couldn't let her dad go.

Betty used to think her mad. She used to judge her outright, without guilt. It wasn't right. Veronica was wrong.

However…

Whatever skills Veronica had to survive had come from her father. While these skills had been deplorable in Riverdale, they were necessary at the end of the world. The very reason that Betty considered Veronica still likely alive today was entirely thanks to her father, and the ways that he'd taught her to be ruthless and slightly selfish.

Hiram saved Veronica, even if he did not know it. Or maybe, somehow, he did. As much as Veronica tried to cleave herself from him, she'd become him. Hopefully a better version, but a frankenstein Hiram nonetheless.

When Betty and Polly were younger, their father was a hands-on dad. He played dress-up with them, he let them paint his nails hot pink, he was amazed by every shitty drawing they gave him for the fridge. He'd always prefered Polly.

No, prefer wasn't the right word.

He'd always made a bigger effort with Polly. He hadn't needed to with his younger daughter. Betty and Hal simply...understood each other. As child, Betty had always preened when her and her father were consistently on the same wavelength. After it all had come out in the open, Betty had just felt sick to her stomach. She remembered, right after Polly had heard, she'd looked at Betty and just for a second, just for a moment, the way she was looking at Betty was as though she was seeing her father standing before them.

Betty never forgot that fear in her eyes.

Polly was never meant for this world. She was hardly built for the tough knocks she was given in Riverdale. Had their town never made the front page, never gotten tangled up in anything under the board, Polly would have thrived. Her teen pregnancy would have been the most gossiped thing, and even that would have gotten old soon. She wasn't built to survive in the apocalypse.

Alice wasn't, not anymore. At Betty's age, when she was a Serpent, she probably would have managed fine. However, years of living on the Northside with a plush job had likely softened her. Betty had more faith in her than Polly, but not much.

Betty had survived so far, because like Hiram and Veronica, she was her father's daughter. That was something she would never shake. It was an unwavering truth.

She may hate it, she may want to vomit at the thought, but it was true.

She could have died today. She could have easily met her end, as she had nearly done time and time and time before.

The world was cruel enough before the dead walked the earth. Now? It was ruthless. It was not built for the faint of heart.

She could despise her father but take what had been given to her. She would survive, she had to.

It was in this moment that Betty truly felt like a member of the Southside Serpents for the first time in her life. She counted back, realizing that as time had molded her, it had shed her skin in different ways, making way for the person reflected in the bathwater today.

She had started as Elizabeth Cooper; a young child, innocent, unaware of the darkness that lurked in every inch of Riverdale. Then, she'd become Betty Cooper in elementary school; still young, but finding her way, forming that bond with her father as the pair of them stayed up late watching campy horror movies and fixing cars. She'd also formed her first friendships with Archie then, stepping into a role that people followed. Then, in highschool, Betts, when she was with Jughead. She'd broken laws, twisted lies, scrapped and climbed and never let the truth get away before Betty had her hands on it. She'd faced unimaginable trials, and come out alive. It was the first time that she had realized that terrible things could occur and she would survive.

And now? Now she really 'got' what it meant to have a Serpent nickname. It wasn't just a cute little title. It was her armor holding everything in and facing outward. It was the culmination of everything in her past leading her up to this very moment, and everything she'd need going forward to make it another day, and then a day past that, and then a day past that. It was accepting her father as her blood, as part of her life.

It was like he'd taught her to do with old, junked cars; take what is useful to you, don't look back on what is not. She would reap the parts of her father that made him survive, like a goddamn cockroach...maybe leave out the megalomaniac that decided it was fair and just to kill people he'd known his entire life that, mostly, hadn't done much wrong. There had to be a balance somewhere, Betty believed this wholeheartedly.

Her bathwater had long grown cold, and to be honest, was just unpleasant now. Betty sat up, grabbing the soap sitting on the counter, rubbing herself down. It was the cleanest she'd felt in weeks. She felt reborn, squeaky-clean and new. She rubbed until her whole body was pink, until no one would have been able to tell that she'd been in a fight with a walker earlier this morning.

She felt better. She felt stronger.

It was not Betty Cooper who stepped out of that tub. It was Arainrhod.

 _December 15th, 2018_

It's not as though she was entirely a different person now, it was just that she felt as though she understood what it meant to have a nickname. It was easier to curl up inside yourself when you had protection; a leather jacket to keep people from hurting your physical body, a nickname to keep people from getting too close to you.

She practiced this from time to time, closing the Betty side away and watching her expression in the mirror change. Her skin didn't ripple unnaturally, her face didn't morph, but when she was Arainrhod, she was markedly different. She could only think that Sweet Pea was a master of mapping his mind, because this shit was hard.

She wasn't Arianrhod all the time. She could see it being useful if they came across others, or if they had to venture out again.

But when she was just here with Sweet Pea? No, when she was just here with Jordan? There was no need on either of their parts.

 _The Office_ continued to be a favorite nightly activity, even if Betty tried very hard to ignore that kiss. Whenever Pam and Jim did something, it did make Betty's stomach churn, since she now tied the fictional relationship to her own with Sweet Pea, whatever it actually was. Still, the antics of Dunder Mifflin were soothing enough to relax Betty and Sweets before bed. Sometimes, it made her a little sad to look on this show and remember that the world didn't exist like this anymore, but it was a strange feeling. Sort of like watching the Harry Potter movies and mourning that Hogwarts didn't exist. The universe that _The Office_ existed in felt fictional to her, which was crazy, since before this whole apocalypse, walking dead would have been straight out of a horror movie and nothing more.

Mid-December, they were lounging on the couch with practically sixty blankets over them. Or, that's how it felt. Around the start of the episode, the wood in the fireplace had started to feel less warm. It's only finishing this episode now that they realized how chilly the room had gotten.

"I'm cold," Betty whined.

"Well damn, Betty, I can't control the weather," Sweet Pea tilted his head back against the couch edge, "You think we could find a box set of _That 70's Show_ for next winter? We are in Wisconsin, it would be appropriate."

"I'm sure someone here has to have it," Betty chuckled, "But seriously," She whined.

"I was serious too. I'm super comfortable right now."

Betty stuck out her tongue at him, "Lazy-ass."

Sweet Pea didn't move an inch, "I could say the same to you." He ran his fingers through his black hair. He really needed a hair-cut. She might be able to talk him into one in the next couple days. She'd gotten actually fairly decent at cutting hair, at least her own. How hard could a guy's head be? Not that he wasn't attractive like this. He was always attractive, that was the issue.

"Rock, paper, scissors?" Betty held up a fist on her flat palm. He moaned like she'd just asked him to do something truly arduous, like run a mile outside.

"Fine," He drew the word out like a petulant child, "On scissors or shoot?" He asked, an all important question.

"Shoot," Betty said automatically.

"Damn right," He winked, "That's the only acceptable manner. Now. Rock, paper, scissors-shoot!" They chanted the last bit in unison.

Sweet Pea threw out a rock, Betty threw out scissors. She pouted as he lightly tapped her outstretched fingers.

"Two out of three?" She asked. The dry, flat look he gave her told her she'd lost. Darn it. She looked at the fireplace, which seemed so far away, mentally preparing herself.

"Betty," Sweet Pea teased, lightly nudging her arm.

"Okay, okay." Betty says, staring up at him, starting to shake off the mountain of blankets. He looked more casual than she could ever recall; a pair of joggers that fit his body far too well and a plain white t-shirt. He'd taken off all of his accessories; his multiple rings he used to wear in a box near the bed. The only jewelry left was his dog tags, glinting across the light of the house.

"You don't seem to be moving," Sweet Pea chuckled, and Betty admitted to herself she enjoyed being snuggled up against him far more than she should.

"I'm going," She growled, running her hand through her hair, tightening her ponytail, out of her face. She shoved off all the blankets, much to Sweet Pea's distress, "Hey! If I have to be cold for ten seconds, so do you, pal," She said, purposely and almost-flirily kicking all the blankets a foot away. If he wanted to cover himself again, he'd have to work for it, goddammit. From Sweet Pea's expression, she knew he wouldn't. She set the video player on one side of her. The kitchen was easiest to access to her left, past Sweet Pea.

"Move your legs," She said, patting where his legs have made a very immovable bridge from the couch to the side table.

"Unlikely," Swee Pea says back, slouching down further to show his stubbornness. Something like a rebellion flared inside of Betty. She's not sure why she thought it was a good idea, but instead of getting up and walking around the sofa like a normal person, Betty swung her legs to try to vault over Sweet Pea instead.

Sweet Pea clearly wasn't expecting this. Betty wasn't expecting herself to do that either, but it's like her brain just clicked off for a second. Or like a ghost took hold of her physical form and decided to do something that would only end badly, she considered.

He jolted, causing Betty's mini-leap to stop in its tracks. She nearly fell on top of him, but Sweet Pea managed to grab her before she knocked foreheads with him. The relief of not inducing a bloody nose on either of their parts and her wonderment of why she tried to do this overshadowed her situation, but not for long.

She was basically straddling him. No, she corrects herself, there is no basically about it. Her knees pressed on either side of his thighs and Betty was situated right on his lap. The smart thing to do would to laugh awkwardly about it and just hop off, but the heavy swallow of Sweet Pea paused her.

Fucking hell, it's the way he looked at her.

They both seemed to have stopped breathing at the same second, likely the moment that their hips connected. Sweet Pea's eyes were wide and panicked at first, but after a second they settled into something warm, molten, and wanting.

His hands, which had reached out to steady her, now rested on the skin of her exposed upper leg, where her sports shorts had ridden up. Betty wasn't even sure if he knew what he was doing, but his thumbs started to trace soft patterns over the skin. Like he was following a drawing, a constellation, an invisible line that spiraled all over her flesh.

His movements were reverent, soft, careful. It's everything that Betty completely did not think would happen, and there's something about this that caused her to feel very warm, despite the chilly temperature of the room around them. It's enough to make her momentarily forget her reason for traversing Sweet Pea, albeit badly.

When his thumb brushed up against the lace of her underwear, around her legs, Betty couldn't help but groan a little and rocked her hips forward onto his.

This stopped his movement. She wished he'd continue the ministrations, as although it felt like he had lit flames under her flesh, the lack of he heat left her needing.

Instead, Sweet Pea leaned forward, pressed his forehead to hers. His breathing was heavy, like he'd been running, and his palms started moving again. It wasn't the absentminded shapes on her skin, but instead his large hands traveled up and grabbed her ass, pulling her forward. She was like putty, she just let him move her. A part of Betty was scared to even breathe too loudly, lest this all come to a screeching halt.

Very specifically, Sweet Pea moved Betty not half-way off his lap, but right at the center. His hands were still on her backside, and he gave the slightest amount of pressure on her hips to anchor her in place. As he did, he hissed, sucking the air in over his teeth, a sharp inhilation. He bit his lip, just so slightly, as his fingernails pressed half-moons into her skin, his hips rotating upward.

She felt his hardness through his sweatpants.

It wasn't surprising to Betty in the most logical sense. It had been months since either of them had sex. Betty gets herself off the best she can, but even that's only so-so, especially since she knows how the real thing is like. She's sure Sweet Pea feels the same, even if it's something she'd never ask him about. However, as she allowed Sweet Pea to push her harder down on his so he rutted up against her, his head fell to her collarbone and she heard his breathless exhale.

It's just one word. Just...her name.

" _Betty_."

Not Cooper, not Betts, not Arianrhod. Just Betty. And, when he said it like that, Betty believed that it's not simply the scantily dressed women in a compromising position on top of him, but that it was Betty Cooper herself that elicited such a delicious response. She had never felt so wanted in her life.

"Jordan, oh," Betty replied, as she wanted him to know the same. As horny as Betty was, if she were trapped with Reggie or with Fangs as a survival partner, she doubts she would have wanted them as much as she wanted Sweet Pea.

He seemed to get the idea, because he chuckled, nipping on her neck playfully, just a smidge too hard, and made an utterly sexy mixture of pain and pleasure. Betty half-shrieked, but was even more turned on by it. Her and Jughead had experimented with a lot of very non-vanilla things, and though she'd fantasized, she imagined that Sweet Pea might not be opposed to them either. She remembered the lights in his eyes after they'd discussed how very kinky her and Jughead had been.

Sweet Pea fell back onto the couch, as he allowed Betty to shove herself forward on him. His hands are kneaded the soft skin of her thighs and up to the small of her back, and his urgency wasn't lessened, but he didn't seem as concerned about overstepping a boundary line. She wondered what made him snap, what made him decide to take this. She was so pleased, so honestly, Betty didn't care.

Betty could have stopped him at any time this gets too far, she knew this.

A truth, however? She wanted this. She wanted all of him. She's wanted this since before they found this house, and she'd been tiptoeing around it.

Even a herd of walkers breaking in right now would be difficult to stop them, she thought.

She had pretty good ideas about how big he was, but she was still shocked to feel the fullness of him, and this hadn't helped her urge to take him completely. She restrained herself, though only barely.

Sweet Pea grasped the back of her neck, his other hand pulled the back of her shirt as he forced her down onto him with more frantic movements. He was using her, but that was fine, because Betty was using him too. Still, she felt malleable to his fingers, pressed to his chest and on top of his thighs, as Sweet Pea gyrated up onto her.

"Betty, Betty, Betts," Sweet Pea moaned softly, lips trailing over her neck, sometimes nipping, other times just ghosting.

"So good," Betty whispered back, her fingers under his shirt. She scratched up and down his chest. In kind, his back arched into her.

Betty darted her hand down to position him so that she was receiving the ultimate pleasure she could from this. If this was going to be the only time this was going to happen, she was going to enjoy it. She grasped around him and Sweet Pea made a choked sound. Then, he jolted in retaliation.

His fingers were braver.

They didn't delve underneath her underwear, but they paused in between her shorts and her underwear, a flimsy layer between her wet center and his fingers. Teasingly, he circled light movements over her, which resorted Betty to a panting, pleading mess.

Sweet Pea kept his fingers on that layer, but derived some pleasure in hearing Betty ask this of him so desperately. As soon as Betty was more or less just whispering half-words, he started to press and work Betty to completion. She wantonly ground herself against his hand, her own fingers-having curled around the outline of him through his sweatpants- and started moving.

It took a pitfully short amount of time for both of them. If this were normal, Betty would be entirely embarrassed about how quick that was. As she reminded herself before, this is the first either has gotten since the start of this. So, yes, her body was tightly coiled, waiting for someone to unravel it.

Betty came first, biting her lip to keep the loud noise that erupted from her throat. Sweet Pea grasped the top of Betty's hand with his own, helping her finish him off too. He finished with a low, throaty groan.

There was a stain that gathered on the front of Sweet Pea's sweatpants. Betty had gotten a little bit on her hand. She wasn't sure if Sweet Pea felt weird about this, and before she could ask, Sweet Pea's naughty fingers ran under the line of her underwear, just for a second, touching her. He pulled it back out in a second, his two fingers sticky from her own come that coated her outer lips.

With Jughead, he'd always just cleaned his fingers on the inside of her thighs or on a tissue. She wasn't sure what she expected Sweet Pea to do. She still sat on him, but now her forearms rested softly on his shoulders. She could have moved, but it was like she was enchanted by him.

Catching Betty's expression, he brought his coated fingers to his lips, licking them off with a carefulness that was very calculated. She way his cheeks were flushed, his hair was perpetually mussed, and the darkness of his pupils- combined with how his tongue flickered over his fingers- was downright evil. Evil in the way that Betty swore to God she nearly came again, right then and there.

After a second, as his hand dropped away, there was a second of awkwardness. As their breathing returned to a normal pace, it was like both had been possessed or something.

Her and Jughead's romance had been a whirlwind. When they weren't kissing, they were snooping for murderers. The stakes had felt so much higher. They hadn't gone from crawling to walking to running, they'd gone from crawling to full on marathon-sprinting. The moments after their first time had been awkward, but there hadn't been many moments of unsure experimentation, moments like this where both had gotten off with hardly any clothes shed.

As though Sweet Pea could feel her doubt climbing back in, and he could likely see it, he pulled Betty forward.

Just one soft kiss.

It was gentle, chaste, and tender. It felt like a 'thank-you'.

Betty did not offer up to forget this moment, as she had with their kiss not so long ago. She was tired to shoving things under the rug. She hadn't wanted to forget that kiss, and she'd be damned if she was forced to put this experience out of her memory. Even if she wasn't quite sure where this left them, she wasn't going to try to smooth it over again.

Sweet Pea didn't offer it up either.

"That was," He paused, struggling for the word, "Nice."

She got the impression that 'nice' was a place-holder, because he'd been searching mentally for a couple of seconds for a term. Still, Betty understood. It had been 'nice', and then some.

"So, well, good news," Sweet Pea's voice was shaky, but light, "I'm not cold anymore."

Betty shook her head, "Me neither."

"You should probably still put another log on," Sweet Pea said, but made no movement to shake her off.

"After that?" Betty leaned back, "After I just rocked your world?"

Sweet Pea's lips quirked, which she was grateful for. It seemed they were going the joking route about this, which she was pleased about. Sure, it still wasn't a heart-to-heart, but it was progress. Progress was good. Betty could work with progress.

"You still lost 'rock-paper-scissors', if I recall correctly," Sweet Pea said, his forehead resting on hers.

"My legs sorta feel like jelly," Betty admitted. She could have probably gotten up, sure, but she was going to try this first.

Sweet Pea bared his teeth, grinning, "Good."

Then, he was shifting Betty off him. She curled back up with the blanket, smirking at her success. Leave it to stroking a male's ego to get him to do some housework, she figured.

He turned back to see her expression, "Minx," He teased.

"You going to complain?"

"No," Sweet Pea said airily, grasping a sliced piece of wood, "I don't think I will."

* * *

 **HOW EXCITED ARE YOU ALL SOMETHING FINALLY HAPPENED?**

 **Most of that stuff about Betty and her father was actually written pre-the last few episodes of the show where this was sorta alluded/talked about. It's funny, I think that this idea is such an interesting concept, if done right, but somehow with all the pieces there Riverdale still somehow manages to botch it. Sigh.**

 **Actually, a lot of this was written awhile ago. And, not sure how, but the smuttiest scene was written between my two places of work. Not sure how that worked out, but it feels like thinking of smutty fanfics in Church. It just made me laugh I suppose.**

 **Anyway, I would really love to hear you're thoughts/inhuman screams about this chapter!**


	16. Track 15: Silent Night in a Minor Key

**Sorry I missed a month! I was in Peru and just really did not have time! Arg...but I still think ya'lls will enjoy this chapter ;)**

 **Thanks to all of you who reviewed: Chloe0x0, victoriaalexington, NameNature, Ava and Guest!**

 **NameNature: Glad to make reading fanfiction a little awkward to do around family members!**

 **Ava: Ahaha as much as I'd love to get a book published, it probably won't be this one (I think RAS might sue me and all) but I do have original stuff I'm working on between fics! As for the answer to your question, no. Her name is more or less via the connection of other names of characters.**

 **Guest: Sorry for the delay! Hope you enjoy this chapter.**

* * *

 **Song for this chapter is Silent Night in a Minor Key. The ones on Youtube by Chase Holfelder, Myuu, or Oleg Berg are all fantastic if you're looking for a creepy sinister XMas melody.**

* * *

 _December 17th, 2018_

They weren't pretending it never happened, thank God. They weren't talking about it, but deciding to collectively wipe it from their memories was a step back, which wasn't the case this time. She was pretty sure this wasn't a step forward, maybe it was just a stagnant motion, but it was hopeful of the future. She sure as hell knew she wouldn't be able to forget how he'd made her feel, so that had to be something, as solid and unmoving as it was.

Though, well, no. It was a step forward, at least in strange ways. Ways that Betty hadn't picked up on until she really started thinking about it.

They touched each other a lot more now. Not sexually (unfortunately), but casually. It seemed like the 'personal space bubble' had popped out of existing for both of them. Even without meaning to, they both were drawn to each other like a magnet.

It was Sweet Pea patting her head as a joke while he half-heartedly insulted her but grinned all the while, it was Betty leaning down on his back when he was focusing on something just to annoy him, it was Sweet Pea grabbing Betty's arm, it was Betty's need to run her hands through his hair at all times. And neither complained. If anything, they enjoyed it.

People needed human touch. It was shown that babies especially needed it, so why would that suddenly vanish as people got older. If anything, adults needed it more, because it came so rarely. Is that why people sought out partners for life? Was all someone truly needed a companion to curl up next or reach for your hand when you were working?

Betty was unsure.

What she did know was this; she was thinking a lot about the human condition of late, and what it meant to be together and alone. If the world hadn't gone to shit, and she was still convinced one day it might flip onto the right side again, she could probably write a very successful book or paper or something.

 _December 19th, 2018_

The little piano down in the basement doesn't make a lot of noise. They also picked a location for it that couldn't be heard from outside, but also was muffled when someone was upstairs. It's a nice break for both of them. As much as Betty enjoys her time together with Sweet Pea, there are times when they both just need to relax.

It's the end of the world. They can't make mistakes about this. They're all each other has.

Betty will try to go find her name in her spare time, still to not much avail. When she has gotten frustrated with combing through books, she'll write. She'll sit on the couch and mentally write news articles, and then go back through and obsessively edit them. She'll stare out the window to the winter inkinesss, chewing on her nails, as she tries to think of the perfect way to scribe her thoughts.

 _Extra! Extra! Apocalypse Encourages Two Frenemies Into Something More!_

 _Read All About It! A Can of Plums Will Still Be Edible After Eight Months, but Won't Taste Good!_

 _Fresh From The Press-Need To Get Away From All the Stress of Life? Try An Apocalypse!_

Sometimes, she makes herself fall over giggling about all of it. About the news articles she'd write and edit if she were alive, for the Blue & Gold. She'd be nearing the end of her fall semester. She'd have gotten all her College essays and applications in by now. She would be going out and picking out presents for everyone. She'd be looking forward to her last and final semester.

And Sweet Pea? She's unsure, but she has a sinking feeling that he'd be pulled more into the crime of the Serpents, having graduated with no prospects.

Her life might have been completely obliterated, but sometimes, she thinks it's a miracle this happened for him.

On that note, she decides to find him.

He's been at the piano a lot lately. She doesn't bother him a lot down here. When she approaches, however, she can recognize what he's trying to hammer out. This, she feels, is pretty impressive. Betty's mother had paid for piano lessons when she was young, but she dropped it. She just didn't enjoy it with the zest that Sweet Pea so clearly does.

She recognized the jingle; it's the opening piano part from The Office theme. He's clearly working through it himself, he can about five seconds in perfectly before it's Sweet Pea humming and tapping different ivories, trying to find just the right combination of notes.

Betty comes up behind him, curling her arms over his shoulder and resting her cheek against his neck.

"Sounds cool."

"It will be, eventually." Sweet Pea says through a pen, the sound muffled.

Betty scrunches her nose when she looks at the scrap paper he's working on.

"What in the name of holy hell is that?" She says, pointing at what would be insulting to chickens to call it chicken scrawl.

"It's my sheet music."

It's no type of sheet music Betty has ever seen in her life. Loads of strange symbols, confusing arrows to other bits, and wholly unorganized. It makes the obsessive-compulsive part of Betty's heart die a little looking at it.

"Uhm…" Betty takes a step back, frowning and rubbing her chin.

"Well," Sweet Pea spins around, "I didn't have fancy piano lessons like you, Miss Richy." He teases, but there is a hint of hurt underneath, "So I make do. If I can read it, it works right?"

She can't argue there. It's not like anyone else will be reading this. And hey, maybe if they do, Sweet Pea has just re-made the wheel. Reinvented sheet music. Who knows?

Betty motions for him to scoot over on the seat. She hasn't touched a piano in years, not something that wasn't the crappy music room dinosaur, but this feels familiar. She has a good enough memory to recall how to play. Without even knowing it, her fingers start to dance out a Mozart.

"Show me what you've got?" Betty asks, motioning to the keys. Sweet Pea presses his fingers down. Betty, without thinking, settles her palms over the back of his hand, piggy-back playing the music.

She hummed as she trails him, thinking the notes in her mind.

It's not like she's going to ruin this, his strange way of marking patterns.

"I could teach you piano the way I learned it." She's careful not to say something assholish like 'the real piano way', because isn't this a way to play? How is hers any more valid than his?

"Maybe one day," Sweet Pea shrugs, "We still have a long winter ahead of us. And then the rest of time."

Betty withdraws her hands.

"Do you mind?" She motioned to the piano, "If I...watch?"

"No commentary?" Sweet Pea asks warily.

"No. I just want to sit here."

"Yeah, I'd like the company."

 _December 20th, 2018_

That boy is beautiful, Betty finds herself thinking one afternoon. Not beautiful in the sort of model way, in the sort of way they may talk about a girl, but beautiful everywhere. In his features, in his laugh, in the way he so precisely focuses on the task at hand. Right now, it's deciding meal plans for basically forever. She knows it's boring af. She finds it hard to keep the focus, so it's a miracle Sweet Pea can at all. Still, he asserts himself into it with the same 'go-at-it' he does most everything.

But of course, no one is absolutely perfect, but Betty thinks he's pretty darn close.

"What are you looking at?" Sweet Pea scowls, glancing up at her.

"You need a haircut," She mumbled absently through her fingers, "When was your last one?"

"Well, before the world went to shit."

Betty has been cutting her own hair, just trims, for awhile now. She did it before the apocalypse, so there really was no reason to stop. She knows that it probably wasn't high on Sweet's list of things to do, which is fine. Missing a haircut is hardly gasp-worthy. Still, it's getty really shaggy and long.

"Do you trust me to cut it?"

Sweet Pea blinks long and hard at her.

"Well, I guess. I trust you in pretty much any other way, so…" He trails off, face contorted into deep thought, "If you really feel the need."

Betty grimaces, humming a single tone of amusement, "I do."

They need a break from this anyway.

Betty does the whole thing. She knows from her mother that you can't really cut dry hair. Not as well, anyway. So, she forces him to go and take a quick shower, if only that means dunking his head and scrubbing up. In all honesty, it's not the worst thing.

It's not like Sweet Pea doesn't shower or bathe. It's just that in this climate, in this world, an extra scrubbing can never be a bad thing.

Betty bites her lip, trying to recall what his hair length was when the first met. She's gotten so used to seeing him like this that she only recalls it shorter, but not how or what length. It's a weird realization. If Toni were to waltz in right now, she could remember. It's that weird thing...where you look at someone everyday and realize they've changed, but it was so incremental to you that you hardly notice. He looks a little older. Starving will do that to a person. Besides that, he has a good five o'clock shadow on his face, spotty and clumpy like most 18-year-olds do. He was always fresh-faced in highschool. But this suites him. Or will suit him, she thinks, recalling her dream.

"Uhhh, you gunna actually cut something?"

Betty blinks, "Sorry. Yeah. Just trying to remember how short it once was."

"Well, if you cut it a little short, no biggie, eh? I mean, it grows out. Hair is magic like that," He said, voice highly sarcastic. Betty's lip twitched with the hint of a smile.

Betty tilted her head, realizing that she had a way to figure it out. She grabbed her phone from the sink and scrolled through her photos until she found the one she was looking for. Her and Jughead with Sweet Pea and Fangs in the background. It was only as she was setting it down to use as a reference that she thought about the fact that it was a picture of her and Jughead, her first true love, not just some random person.

"You okay?" Sweet Pea noticed the photo.

"Yes," Betty said, "No. I mean," She set the scissors down, not wanting to start while trying to explain this, "I look at this photo and just feel strange. I feel a little upset I'm not as emotional by it. I look and it and I don't feel the same things I used to for Jughead. It's just a good memory." She murmured.

Sweet Pea's adam apple bobbed, but he turned around. Betty inhaled, picked up the scissors, and started cutting.

Glancing back to the photo brought up a lot of thoughts. Perhaps if Sweet Pea had offered up some conversation, Betty may not have said something. But she felt pressured to say something. This photo had been taken only about two weeks before the day she'd woken up alone in the Lodge's house.

"Have you ever thought about what would happen if you had never gone to kill Hiram?"

Sweet Pea startled. Luckily, Betty had paused, her scissors lowered.

"You mean the day the world ended?"

"Yeah. That one." Had Sweet Pea gone and tried to kill Hiram more than once? Either way, she thought his response was just surprise, not necessarily that he was confused.

Sweet Pea was very quiet for a long time again. Betty wondered if at first this was only something she'd ran through.

"Of course I think about it," Sweet Pea's voice was rough, incredulous, "I think about that you'd likely be...be...dead." He whispered. It was obvious he'd almost tried to insert a joking tone into it, but unable to. Even without saying it, Sweet Pea imaging her gone distressed him.

Betty pursed her lip, tears at the edge of her eyes but she wasn't sure why, "Yeah." She knew this. She could come to terms with the inevitability of her fate had she not run into Sweet Pea. She recalled cowering in that car, just trying to breathe normally but unprepared to kill things she couldn't figure out. Her brain had still been in the old world, not this new world. Not the one that Sweet Pea so easily slid into, how he came like a knight on a white horse, riding through and killing the walkers in the path.

"I'd be too though."

Betty gave a sort of watery laugh, "Bullshit. You'd survive." She said, warmth seeping into her voice.

"I dunno. You've saved me a lot, Betts." Sweet Pea said reasonably, "And I don't think I could have done this without a partner."

"You could have still teamed up." Betty scoffed, "I'm sure the path would have been different and you may have seen someone."

"I honestly don't think I would have given many else the chance I gave you. And it's worked out...hasn't it?" He sounded so unsure, so needing. Betty rubbed his shoulders gently.

"I like this life," She said, looking up at the high ceiling, at the snow piling up outside, at the house that she had felt like they had made a home. There in the corner were their favorite books near the couch, with the soft blanket that Betty had knit with her arms and large yarn a week ago (it was a little wonky, but Sweet Pea insisted it was hella comfortable), with Sweet Pea's cooking supplies and Betty's notebooks near the table. She liked where she was, "I'm happy."

Sweet Pea rested his cheek on the top of her hand that was on his shoulder just for the quietest of seconds, "Me too."

 _December 22nd, 2018_

Christmas season snuck up on Betty, although she couldn't claim that the holiday season in the previous years had been on her mind. To be honest, last Christmas had been horrendous, and she'd rather forget much of the events that circled around it. She'd been so busy searching for The Black Hood that by Christmas Eve, Betty felt as though she'd been caught off guard.

Betty was woken up a few days before Christmas by Sweet Pea throwing a coat in her face.

"Get up slow poke! We're going on an adventure."

Betty groaned, blinking groggily to him.

"What?" She finally asked, staring up at him. He was in his complete winter outfit, along with his faithful baseball bat strapped to his back, plus a gun and a knife in each boot.

"Christmas!" Sweet Pea said excitedly, looking more like a golden retriever or a happy child than a gang member.

"Sweets, it's three days 'till."

"Well, it won't come at all if we don't move our asses into gear," He scoffed, "What is something that makes the world turn and feel like Christmas?" He asked, shifting his hands around.

"Uhm, supermarkets playing Christmas tunes the day after Thanksgiving?"

"No," Sweet Pea pulled the blanket off of her, throwing more warm items her way, "Try again," He sing-sang.

"Snow?"

Sweet Pea gave an exasperated sigh, "Christmas trees," He said, grabbing an oversized saw from near the threshold of the door. Betty faintly remembered seeing it in the tool shed. She sat up, and despite it all, couldn't help but smile widely.

"Give me like ten, m'kay?"

Sweet Pea left her with a 'be quick' in a springy tone, all but bouncing out of the room.

The air outside was crisp. It smelled exactly like winter to Betty. She hadn't been outside since the walker had nearly killed her, Sweet Pea had taken over most of the hunting. Whether or not he'd meant this to be a gentle nudge and restoration of her courage, she couldn't tell, but she realized he'd gotten her outside without her mind thinking of that moment until they were outside the gates.

"We need to find the perfect tree," Sweet Pea said, holding up his fingers into a square, licking his lips, "Our first Christmas together." His blush spread across his face, "Well, not like we're 'together', but just that we're...I mean, we're a family, but not that we're a 'family' like I'm you're my...you're my…"

"Our first Christmas," Betty spoke over him, assuring his blunder. Somewhere deep, fluttering in her heart, she wanted it to mean all those things. However, she'd take it how she could get it.

Sweet Pea nodded, running his hand over his beanie, inhaling. When he breathed out, Betty could see his breath suspended in the air. With just a few wisps of his newly-cut hair peeking out, and his flushed red cheeks, Betty was so close to reaching up to kiss him. The urge just came over her, like a tidal wave, like an avalanche.

"There!" She said, spying something out of the corner of her eye, glad that fate had showed her a wonderful looking speciman right before she did something stupid.

Sweet Pea bounded over to it, circling it and sniffing deeply, "Yep. Smells like Ole St. Nick and carols!" He announced, offering one half of the saw to Betty. Together, they worked quickly to fell it, only having to kill one walker that moaned by. Betty also managed to shoot a snow rabbit bounding through the drifts, assuring a delicious dinner for them.

They worked together to drag that gigantic tree back through the forest, feeling acutely vintage. Like something out of one of those 'Little House in the Big Woods' books, something not apocalyptic but simpler. Sweet Pea sang horribly wrong Christmas songs, some inappropriately butchered version of Jingle Bells, causing Betty to laugh so hard she almost cried. Then he convinced her to join in, and the pair whispered the lyrics in tandem to make sure they didn't attack walkers. They almost couldn't get through a full verse without dissolving into giggles, so by the time they made it home, they'd only almost managed through the song.

In one of the garages, Sweet Pea found a slightly dusty box labeled 'Ornaments' and they spent the rest of the day sorting through the box to find things they felt were worthy to hang on their tree. The tree stood proudly in the living room, making it actually look complete. They discarded about half of the ornaments due to various reasons and spent the night sourcing the house for items to make into weird ornaments. It was the most bizarrely decorated tree Betty had ever seen, but it was theirs and that's what made it great. They did have a star on the top, one that looked so unlike the one that Betty's family used to have. Sweet Pea admitted he'd never had a real Christmas tree, so this felt significant for both of them.

By the end of the night, Sweet Pea had dragged an instrument upstairs and was having Betty guess Christmas songs.

As they collapsed into bed, having done nothing to further their survival but everything to further their thriving, Betty turned to Sweet Pea, searching for his fingers, "I'm excited for Christmas now."

 _December 25th, 2018_

Just as Sweet Pea had woken Betty up, Betty poked Sweet Pea awake Christmas morning with a cup of hot chocolate for both of them. She'd done Sweet Pea's just how he enjoyed it; extra marshmallows, a pinch of cinnamon, and a pinch of hot pepper.

"This my gift?" Sweet Pea asked, sipping it reverently, savoring every mouthful.

"One of a few," Betty said with a nonchalant shrug. She didn't ask him about a present to her. She hadn't decided if she would be upset or not if he didn't give her one. It wasn't like he had the chance to run out to the local mall, so if he gave her anything, she'd be impressed. She told herself she sort of counted the whole lead-into Christmas day, the tree-hunting excursion, as a pretty good gift.

They had agreed that this day, as well, would be no thoughts of their possible impending doom, of death, of walkers, of any of that. It would be a goddamn good Christmas day. It didn't feel so much as stopping the world, like Christmas before had, but maybe more like re-starting it. Pushing the wheel to move again. Trying to capture a hint of the world before, as different as this would always be.

Betty had been wracking her brain since they got the Christmas tree for a gift for Sweet Pea. She couldn't imagine not getting him one. Not a question in her mind, he was getting a gift.

But, what?

It was even more difficult than getting Jughead a gift post break-up. They had loved each other deeply, passionately, painfully. The love hadn't vanished as they had separated, and some part of Betty knew they'd come back to each other.

But what do you give a boy that you're in love with, who doesn't love you back, but is still the most important person in your life? How can any gift seem significant enough? How can she tell him all she wants to say without overwhelming him or making him feel pressure to reciprocate something he does not feel back?

In the end, she'd made him a mixtape CD. It was something she knew he would enjoy, and she could only hope he didn't make fun of her music choices. Sure, it wasn't the most difficult gift to make out there, but Betty had spent hours scrolling through the music category of their two iPods and the CD's they'd gotten from town to pick just the right songs. Then, she'd found a CD that she thought no one would miss (from what she could tell, it seemed to have been an intro for a pyramid scheme) and burned it over it. She drew on the top of the CD with a whole abundance of Sharpies that had been found in the various junk drawers and well, Betty was pretty darn proud of what she'd made.

Then, she'd wrapped it.

They spent the day playing some board games and listening to Sweet Pea play piano. He'd accumulated quite the repertoire of almost-perfect sounding Christmas tunes, usually getting them right enough for Betty to guess. His favorite was Celion Dion's 'All I Want for Christmas Is You', which he would play very aggressively.

Around dinner they decided to exchange gifts. They were both bundled up to the neck, the air outside whipping around the whole house. If Betty just listened to the noise, it was downright eerie.

But, if she looked at the Christmas lights and the tree and the mugs of hot coco downed, she felt alright.

"I have two gifts," Sweet Pea admitted, "One's...well, I mean, you'll see I guess. Don't feel like you had to get me two or something or-," He scratched his head, "One doesn't even really count."

This did not make Betty feel any better.

"Sweets," She sighed, "Stop trying to one-up me."

"I'm not! Honest. One just came to me yesterday." He said, picking up a parcel from the ground, "Here it is. I mean, I almost just handed it to you, to be honest."

Betty carefully undid the tape. Back before, she'd always been unduly careful with wrapping anyway, re-using it if she could. The apocalypse gave her no good reason to stop now.

Inside was...a book. A book that she knew for a fact had been on the shelf downstairs, because she'd leafed through it many times before.

"Erm, thanks?"

"You're killing me with how slowly you're making progress, Arianrhod. There. Ta-da." He said with a slight wave of his hand. Betty examined it again. _Celtic and Welsh Mythology: A Complete Guide._

"So this is...this is where to find my name?" She asked.

"Yep." The 'p' popped off his voice, "Enjoy. Ack! Not now. Don't I have a present?" Sweet Pea said with puppy-dog eyes as Betty tried to leaf through it.

"Right. Yes, of course." Betty said. She stood up to where only two more presents lay under the tree and picked up her small one.

Sweet Pea shook it near his ear, "Now, I could be wrong, but I think I know what this is?"

"Oh?" Betty asked, a little afraid he'd guessed it.

"A puppy, right?" He teased, holding the package, which barley was bigger than his palms.

"Damn. You got me," Betty replied dryly, "How did you ever know?"

"I'm just that good." Sweet Pea said, tearing into the paper with abandon, leaving nothing salvageable. Inside was the disc. Betty gnawed on her lip nervously as Sweet Pea's face shifted to curiosity as he examined it. She let him look on in silence for about three or four minutes before she couldn't take it anymore.

"It's a mix-tape," She burst, "I mean, I know you've probably heard most of these songs and maybe you don't think it's a good gift, but I-,"

"I love it," Sweet Pea said sincerely, his face bright, "This is fantastic, Cooper."

"Well, good." Betty felt her stomach deflate. He was grinning at it in such a way that made her heart flutter.

"I hope you like these songs, because this is the only thing that's going to be playing on repeat for like...the next year or so," Sweet Pea informed her.

"We'll be sick of the songs then," Betty groaned.

"I never could."

There was a quiet moment, one where he blinked back, like he hadn't meant to say that. Betty wasn't sure how to process this, so she just looked to the one gift remaining.

"So, uh,"

Sweet Pea's eyes snapped toward it. He swallowed uncomfortably. With a slowness in his step, he put the gift reverently in front of her, like he was offering her the holy grail.

Betty looked at it. The box was standard gift size, about big enough to fit a couple books or a shirt. It was wrapped with more precision than the book he'd first given her, something said that he'd handled this with care.

Fully intrigued, Betty unraveled the bow on top. Then she undid the wrapping. When she got to the plain white box, she realized that Sweet Pea was practically boring holes into her skull. She waffled between making some joke right now or just opening it, but any laughter she had died on her lips the moment she opened it just a peek and that terribly familiar gray wool caught the corner of her eyes.

She almost didn't believe it.

Her throat clogged, she lifted the crown beanie hat into the light, her fingers tracing over the fabric which she'd touched so many times before.

"I thought I had…" One of her biggest regrets had been throwing the hat as far as she could into the woods all those months ago.

"I went and got it." Sweet Pea admitted, "And I wasn't sure when I'd give it back to you. It seemed like if I did it too soon it would just hurt. And I guess maybe this seemed like a good time. It's nice to be reminded of people during the holidays," Sweet Pea mumbled, looking anywhere but where Betty sat cross legged, tears on her cheeks as she held the hat close to her chest. It was dirty and bloodstained and probably the remainder of something awful, but Betty couldn't let it go.

"You could have left it there."

"Naw," Sweet Pea said, a sad hint of a smile, "I couldn't have."

"That says so much about you, Sweets," Betty whispered, "I'm glad that I got this. I'm crying because it's nice to have this memento of him, but he's just that...something that's a memory." She wasn't sure what she was trying to say. No, wait, she was. She wanted to express to Sweet Pea that getting this wasn't like getting something of her boyfriends, it was like getting any lingering memory, something in the past and ultimately not entirely part of who she was anymore.

She wasn't at all sure that Sweet Pea understood.

"I'm going to put this right here, if that's okay with you," Betty decided, standing and setting the hat on top of a lamp like it was a mannequin head.

"I thought for sure you'd bring it into bed with you," Sweet Pea stood, crossing his arms over his chest, a hint of bitterness seeping into his voice. Betty was hardly fazed, however.

"No," She said simply, un-complicatedly, "It has no place with me there."

 _December 28th, 2018_

Betty stood at the countertop, eyes scanning the lists with a sense of terror. Now that the Christmas festivities were behind them, she had to return to keeping the pair of them alive.

As it was, that was shaping up to be more difficult than she'd anticipated.

A cold frost has swept in and ruined some of their stock for the winter after a particularly nasty storm had broken down the door. Fixing the door and clearing out the snow and ice wasn't hard or something they didn't have time for. They had an abundance of time.

Unfortunately, this left Betty with far too much time to consider all the gruesome ways they could die, starvation included.

She didn't entirely _think_ they were in danger of that, though not by a wide margin. They could survive on what they had left if they made a bigger effort to hunt. It was just unfortunate that a lot of what Sweet Pea had accomplished had been ruined. He'd cussed and kicked some stuff, which was pretty fair. He was downstairs right now, trying to figure out what was salvageable.

She didn't want to tap too much into their canned and boxed foods. They may need that other winters. She also didn't want to make an excursion to town. Something in her gut told her to stay put and she wasn't about to just ignore that.

Too bad her stomach was growling like a tiger.

So they'd pretty much be always a little hungry, she had decided, but they wouldn't die...would they?

That had been the entire cause of her anxieties for the past five days. Going over the numbers, recounting the stocks, anticipating and guessing for the future...she could not afford to be wrong on this.

She wished she had literally any other issue to take her attention away. Even trying to keep the pipes from freezing couldn't hold her mind for long, not before she was distracted back to this damn list again. It was driving her insane.

She stood with her elbows on the counter, supporting her cheeks as she sighed. She stared and stared at the sheet of paper as though some magical solution she'd overlooked would jump out at her.

She had the basement door shut behind her. She registered that Sweet Pea was the one coming up the steps, duh, but she wasn't really thinking about him. Not until he enclosed her, standing directly behind her.

"Do you need to grab something?" Betty realized she was blocking a cabinet. She made a motion to step back, but Sweet Pea's chest was an inch away from her. His arms were on either side of her body, caging her into the small space she'd been occupying.

"Christ, if you worry about this anymore, you'll turn gray at the age of seventeen." He said, looking over her shoulder.

"It's not exactly something I can just ignore," Betty replied, grimacing.

"I get that, I know, but," Sweet Pea's breath was warm on her neck, "I think you need to calm down a bit. Relax. Un-tense."

"Easier said than done." Betty grumbled, wishing more than anything that Veronica would sail in right now with a car to take them off to a day spa.

She felt Sweet Pea grasp her hip, pulling her against him. She opened her mouth to say something, though what she couldn't guess (it would have been as much a surprise to him as it would have been to her), until she felt Sweet Pea run a nose down her neck.

"Well, let me help."

"What do you mean help?" Her voice shivered and she knew she should have scurried away, but she couldn't move.

"Just let me," He said, which didn't exactly answer her question, "I feel like I owe you something else too. I got you a book you already own and angst for Christmas, I should give you some…" There was a prolonged pause and Betty stood, not even daring to breathe, "Pleasure."

"You don't have to." Betty's voice was small and she didn't even really want to be protesting. Sweet Pea kissed her neck, pulling her ever closer against him.

"But I want to."

If she even had anything to stop him, her lips had pretty much stopped forming words, so it didn't matter. She closed her eyes, letting out a little breathless moan as Sweet Pea kissed and nipped at her neck, all the way down to her collar-bone and back up to her ears. One hand edged under her shirt, creeping to her bra and the other moved downward towards her leggings. Betty was nearly sure this was a dream. She would be so damn disappointed to wake up.

She understood what he was doing just before he did it, his fingers disappearing beneath her pants and underwear. He was hard at the small of her back, rocking into her as he pitched them forward, just a little. Betty's hands gripped the counter, allowing them the right leverage.

He wasted no time. His fingers went right for her center, where she was already a little embarrassingly wet. She had been since he had cornered her, back when she assumed he was just in his way.

One finger teased along her entrance, back and forth and never quite entering, enough to drive her mad. By the time that he slipped one digit inside, Betty had been humping his hand enough so that there was little mistaking that she wanted this too. She couldn't remember the last time something other than her own minstrations had gotten herself off or that anything had touched the inside of her, so even just one finger was such a breathless feeling.

"More," She whispered hoarsely, "Please."

She didn't care she was begging. She didn't care that her limbs were so jelly-like that if Sweet Pea wasn't holding her up, she'd surely crumple on the floor. She didn't care that she was thrusting against him like a dog in heat. Betty, who was just as sexually frustrated as she was regular frustrated, had not realized how badly she needed this until he'd given it to her.

The sound she made when he pulled his finger out was pathetic. A low, plantative moan from her throat that was mixed with Sweet Pea's throaty chuckle.

He went straight to three fingers, digging up inside of her in a way that she hadn't felt in so long. She was sure she couldn't take anymore feeling, not until Sweet Pea flicked his thumb against her hooded nub at the same time he did one of her nipples under her shirt.

Betty groaned, dropping her head back against the support of his shoulder.

"Feel good?" He asked, sucking near her ear.

"Just...don't stop…" Betty couldn't form full thoughts, much less a reply. Sweet Pea nodded. She felt his response against her neck.

He began to manipulate her body to his wills, pulling her impossibly close to him as he rubbed against her. Betty felt her climax rising faster than it had before, and wished she had more stamina so she could remain his this moment forever. She got the feeling from Sweet Pea's sharp intakes of breath that he was getting off from this too, and began to take her farther faster.

By the time Betty came on his fingers, her mind was bursting with white and she was entirely boneless on him. Sweet Pea may or may not have finished; Betty was unsure. All she knew was that when he stepped back, he had a falter in his steps like his legs didn't really work right.

Betty sort of slipped to the floor.

"You more relaxed now?" he asked, his voice wheezing.

"Uhm, yeah?" She blinked, "You didn't...I should-"

"None of that," Sweet Pea said firmly, "That was part of your Christmas present. No reciprocation required. Erm, I gotta go...do...stuff…"

Betty, sitting on the ground and trying to catch her breath, was too dazed to argue.

Merry fucking Christmas indeed.

* * *

 **Huzzah! The return of Jug's hat, all the way from, oh god I don't even know what chapter. I always did plan to bring it back. Couldn't really just leave it to the woods.**

 **Lol I promise that not all the smut scenes happen at the end of chapters. This was actually supposed to go until New Year's, but it got too long so I had to cut it off.**

 **In other news, I'm so starved for SweetBetts content that at Hot Topic they have a 'Southside Serpents' eyeshadow pallet that's on my buy-next list and in the pallet Betty's color and Sweet Pea's colors are right next to each other while Jug's is at the bottom. I'm sure unintentional, but that made my day when I saw it.**

 **I'm also intentionally not telling y'all the track list for Betty's mixtape to Sweet Pea, because that's probably what the chapter titles will be for the sequel to this.**

 **Anyway, if you think it was a merry f'n xmas chapter, leave a comment, even if it's just inhuman screams!**


	17. Track 16: We Will Become Silhouettes

**Happy Halloween y'all! What are you going as this year?**

 **Thank you to my reviewers: Guest, bluexaphyre, victorialexington, Chloe0x0, Guest, Ava, and Guest!**

 **Guest: It wasn't two months...not quite XD**

 **Guest: Aww! I'm always happy to hear that!**

 **Ava: I've been waiting for Sweets to reveal he's had Jug's hat for awhile. I thought that Xmas was a good time, plus it just shows that Betty's really and truly over Jug and not just looking at Sweets as a Jug replacement in a sense. And yes, our two little babies have come quite far, haven't they? The name thing is dropped in this chapter to get through some important stuff, but it will re-appear! Next chapter might hopefully kickstart some ideas or questions and all**

 **Song for this chapter is We Will Become Silhouettes by The Shins! Lots to talk about at the bottom a/n, so stick around!**

* * *

 _December 31st, 2018_

Betty had never been one for New Year's. It had always seemed like an inconsequential holiday; someone arbitrarily decided long ago that this marked a new year, so everyone should get roaring drunk?

She knew her friends would take any excuse to party, and apparently, so did her ancestors.

With the end of the world, it felt even less useful. The only thing that mattered about keeping knowledge of the date was to have some semblance of how far into this winter they were. So far, not very far at all.

"I heard once that it snowed in May here in Wisconsin. Like a snowstorm," Sweet Pea informed Betty. She hit him with a pillow.

"And why, once again, did we choose Wisconsin?"

"Because no one wants to live here," Sweet Pea said with a sly grin, "Duh. Which means we're pretty much safe. Can you imagine how many people are fighting over living in somewhere like Florida? What's that got going for it!"

"Warmth?"

"And alligators and mosquitoes and very non-frozen walkers," Sweet Pea shrugged, "Dunno, I think we're the smartest out there, just sayin'."

As it was, they were hardly into the winter season, speaking scientifically. With Christmas gone, New Year's was like a beacon of light on top of a hill. After they'd crossed the hill, they'd just be looking down on the dark, endless blackness below. Months before summer. No end in sight.

There were some days Betty almost didn't want to get up. Some days when this felt all so useless, as though they were pushing a wheel up and up and up just to get squashed by it when it inevitably rolled back down.

She's sure without Sweet Pea's unwavering optimism, and the fact that she made a promise that they'd be in this together, she may have chosen to opt-out long ago.

New Year's, unlike Christmas, did not sneak up on her. She was well aware of the impending date.

There was something significant about it, though she couldn't tell what.

To Sweet Pea's credit, on New Year's Eve, he didn't make a fuss about it. They went about their work and Betty held her breath, almost thinking that they'd be able to by-pass the whole holiday. However, as she washed up after dinner, she noticed Sweet Pea by the clocks.

"What are you doing?" She was almost afraid to ask.

"Making sure that these are perfectly set so we don't miss New Year's," He said, a little distracted, "Hey, ah, wanna go grab that bottle of champagne? The ones that didn't break around your birthday?"

"You want to waste alcohol?"

"Betty, Betty, Betty," Sweet Pea sighed, "This is hardly wasting it. This is what it was made for. But fine; there are smaller bottles down there. Probably two glasses between us, tops." He said, "Please? It's not New Years without booze!"

"Oh, it can be," Betty pinched the bridge of her nose, "Fine, fine."

"Great! New Year's commences in T-minus three hours!"

She wasn't going to have fun, she told herself, and she'd only have one glass. Something was bothering her, making her grumpy, for the life of her she didn't know why.

But that wasn't fair to Sweet Pea. He was trying to find joy to bring into their droll lives, how could she get upset about that? He didn't deserve her snappy attitude. She tried to bring it inward, but that didn't work.

"You have a stick up your ass," Sweet Pea said after finishing their episodes for the night (t-minus a half an hour until New Years).

"Fuck you," Betty growled, turning away.

"Here, have more champagne," Sweet Pea said, tipping the half-empty bottle toward her. She bit her lip.

"I'm fine."

Sweet Pea knit his eyebrows, scowling as he set it aside. He clambered onto the couch to sit right next to her, touching her shoulder gently.

"You...okay?"

"I don't know," She admitted after a long second, "I'm just in an awful mood and I don't know why."

"Must be something in the air," Sweet Pea murmured faintly. She turned, confused. "I'm in a pretty crappy mood too."

"Seriously?"

"Why do you think I'm making such a big effort?" He asked. They were such different people. Sweet Pea became overly happy when he was upset, Betty withdrew into herself as not to hurt others. She realized now that his smile was a little too bright, his eyes a little too empty.

"Why are you upset?"

Sweet Pea flopped back on the couch, "Thinking about...people. It's hard not to. To think that going into this year, you might not see them. I wish we knew when we had it good, or when it was going to be the last time I saw friends, so maybe I could have…" He raised his hands into the air above his face, making vague motions, as though he was trying to reach out and grab the memories swirling around his head, "It just makes you think."

Betty pulled her legs to her chest, setting her chin upon them, "Yeah. I feel that. Maybe that's my hang-up too. You start thinking about where you were last year...who you were with last year at this time. And you realize they're not there anymore." She whispered faintly, trying hard not to cry.

"Last year I was with Fangs. We stole some of FP's stash, and we were singing on the top of the trailer. It was snowing, but I couldn't feel it. I was so buzzed. But I was thinking…" Sweet Pea pulled a face.

"Don't try too hard, you'll hurt yourself," Betty quipped with a smile.

"Fucking hell, I was thinking...of you ." He realized with a start, as though those memories had been lost in a haze of alcohol before. Betty inhaled so hard she choked a bit.

"Me? You hated me last year. Why in the world would you have been thinking of me?"

"I didn't hate you, I hated things associated with Jughead. So," He waved a hand between them, as though that explained it, "It's because I saw you."

"You saw me…" Betty echoed strangely, "It was you. I...I was going to Veronica's party but somehow drove to the trailer park. I guess my heart was missing Jug, hoped I'd run into him or we'd talk or I don't know. I thought maybe it was FP behind the blinds or that Jughead was ignoring me, but that was you peeking through the blinds, wasn't it?"

Sweet Pea seemed to be thinking hard. After a moment, he nodded, "Yeah. That was me."

Betty chewed on her lip, "That's strange. I guess at midnight, without knowing it, I was thinking of you too. I was thinking of the figure I saw, which happened to be you, so…"

Sweet Pea looked strangely pensive. He exhaled softly, almost looking pained as his eyes seemed to trace Betty's face.

"Do you believe in fate?"

Betty giggled nervously. She wasn't prepared for that question at all, nor the implications behind it.

"I know you are. In the words of Michael Scott you're 'a little stitious'," she teased, holding up two fingers to show space of about an inch between them.

"I've seen a lot of shit to make me believe. But isn't it weird that we were both unknowingly thinking of each other and then we find each other on the day the world ends? I guess I just don't believe in coincidences," He said, throwing his arm on the back of the couch, but this whole realization seemed to hit him harder than he wanted to let on.

"I think…" Betty began slowly, "We found what we needed. Maybe there was some divine intervention, maybe we were lucky. I don't think it was necessarily a coincidence either, but I'm not sure if it was planned or if we changed the course of time with our thoughts."

"They say who you think about on New Years is who you'll spend it with. That turned out to be true."

Betty, unsure if she wanted to dive into this conversation which may reveal her deep, passionate feelings for him, choose to lighten it, "Well, then I'm sure as hell glad it was you and not Chuck Clayton or Hiram Lodge I was thinking about."

"If you'd told me last year that I'd be here…" Sweet Pea shrugged, "I guess sometimes I'm glad about how things turn out."

He looked at the many, many clocks he'd situated around them.

"I always watched the ball drop. You?"

"Usually didn't have cable," Sweet Pea said, sucking air through his teeth, "Once, Toni and I tried to re-create it. It didn't go well and we ruined the side of Toni's trailer because Fangs put firecrackers in the make-shift ball. I mean, I thought it was hilarious," He added, his face brightening, "We have two minutes."

"Until 2019," Betty rubbed her eyes. She wasn't tired, but the idea of the year 2019 exhausted her in ways she couldn't describe. Then again, years really didn't matter.

"Hey, Betty?" Sweet Pea asked. Somehow, his hand landed on her knee and was drawing soft, small circles on it.

"Hmm?" She asked, totally distracted by the continual movements.

"Since you know I'm superstitious, I think that maybe we should kiss at midnight. For good luck. For the rest of the year." He said.

Betty felt her cheeks blush hard as her stomach twisted with a fire she knew would bother her the rest of the night. She drew in a breath but never quite let it out, looking at his unsure expression.

"Well, that would be the most logical," She said, but all her words came out in one long rush, "Since we do need all the luck we can get."

"Agreed." Sweet Pea's eyes flickered, "One minute. Fifty-nine...fifty-eight…" He whispered, counting down the seconds, getting softer and softer. Or maybe Betty's brain was fizzling out again. She stood absolutely still, not even daring to breathe for fear that this illusion would shatter or she'd wake up, as Sweet Pea pulled her against him.

"One."

Just as Betty's mind connected the dots as she imagined the ball dropping and people in Times Square crying about the year 2019 (if there were people left to say anything about it), Sweet Pea covered her mouth with his own.

It was gentle, but not chaste. From the second their lips collided, Sweet Pea sought the inside of her mouth, his hands grasping her shoulders as he pulled her closer and closer. Betty let him explore her lips, placing her hands on the couch cushion behind them.

Every sense of hers was overwhelmed by Jordan. He was everywhere at once, all over and in her mind. She felt like she'd fallen inside of him, but that he'd also taken hold of her.

Betty couldn't tell you how long they kissed. To her, it felt like mere seconds, but when they finally pulled back, the clocks said nearly eight minutes had elapsed. They both wore flushed expressions; obviously, neither had expected it to go on so long.

"Happy 2019, Betts." Sweet Pea said, shifting back, "Damn. 2019."

"I think if that's any indicator,' Betty said with a shaky laugh, "We're going to have a very good year."

XXxxXX

 _January 9th, 2019_

Betty woke up in the middle of the night, unsure why. It was the seventh or eighth night in a row she'd woken up without cause, and it was starting to really grind on her mind. Usually, she forced her eyes close again and forced herself back to sleep. Tonight, Betty sat up, yawning and covering her mouth to not disturb Sweet Pea.

Sweet Pea, who strangely was not next to her.

The bed on his side was warm, meaning he'd vacated not long ago.

He'd seemed more tired lately. Seven or eight nights worth, that is. Betty wondered if he'd been getting up nightly, some darkness ailing him, that left him unable to catch much shut-eye and she was now so used to his presence that she woke up at his quiet departure.

Or, perhaps he was just getting water or going to the bathroom.

Betty laid her head upon her pillow, reaching out to grab his own flannel-covered pillow. She would hear his footsteps, she told herself, but couldn't help pulling it to her nose to inhale it just for a second. If she could get away with it, she'd be stealing his pillow to lull her back to sleep.

She waited up for him. It became obvious that this wasn't just a quick trip, he was going on nearly half-an-hour gone.

Betty was concerned. If there was something wrong, she had a right to know! She'd kill him if he was getting sick and hiding it from her, or if he was getting depressed and trying not to let her know. They were partners and partners were transparent with each other!

Betty grabbed a heavy cardigan from the chair near the bed, throwing it over her shoulders as she crept out into the silent, cool house. The wood beneath her feet was frozen and she made a mental note to put 'slippers' on the list for the next time they went outside.

The door to the bathroom near the kitchen was slightly ajar, which was strange. He was clearly hiding something, or else he'd just have gone to the bathroom next to their bedroom. There was a candle burning, the flickering soft light dancing on the walls of the bathroom.

There was a soft groaning noise coming from the bathroom. Betty paused near a wall, trying to decipher what kind of sounds they were. They were too faint for her to really make any decisions, but worry curled in the pit of her heart. If he'd been sick for nearly a week, then it might be serious, and they should be looking for medicine!

Betty steeled herself to face him, preparing her speech about how ridiculous he was being and how dare he hide this illness from her when she could help and about a hundred other frustrations about this situation. She pushed open the door slightly, lips open to start her speech, but was met with a sight she did not expect and was not prepared for.

Sweet Pea hadn't heard her come in. They'd oiled all the door hinges so that none made noise, in an attempt to keep the house as quiet as possible. Because of this, as she nudged the door to the side, he didn't hear her entrance.

His back was to her. He stood hunched over, one hand pressed against the wall and his other grasping himself. His pants were pooled around his ankles and he gave a soft, breathless moans as he rubbed himself.

Betty blinked rapidly. Had he been doing this all eight nights?

Well, he was a guy...a young guy...was she honestly surprised? She shouldn't have been as surprised as she was, she thought.

One part of Betty was about to swiftly turn around, never say anything and go back to bed. The other part of her mind?

It recalled the solid he'd done for her at Christmas. Plus, she realized that she wanted to help him, wanted to do this.

They kept crossing lines that couldn't be uncrossed. First humping, then fingering, now...this? It was clear their weird friends with benefits situation was expanding at a rapid rate. Betty could hardly complain.

She almost drew out to touch his tense back muscles, until she realized that surprising him probably wasn't the best choice. For all she knew he may have a knife and his gut instinct may be to throw it.

Betty opted for a gentle grunt, a little cough into her hand.

Sweet Pea spun, eyes wild, as he grasped for his boxers.

"Betty, er-," He was as red as Archie's hair, "Just go back to bed. I was just...ah…" All excuses blanked on his face as he struggled to come up with a good reason for what she'd just seen.

"You don't have to explain," Betty said, taking a step forward, "It gets lonely here and sometimes you just need to let off some steam," She said, now extremely close to him.

"Right, yeah," Sweet Pea coughed, "But you...I'm not...let's go back to bed." He said, covering his face with his hands.

"But you didn't finish," Betty said, eyes flickering down to his tented pants, "And we both know that it will be nearly impossible for you to sleep without it. Which is why you've been so tired the last week, right?"

"Look," Sweet Pea groaned, "I know I've been off. I just…" He let out a strangled noise as Betty dropped, "What are you doing?"

"Helping you go to sleep," Betty responded coquettishly.

"You don't have to do that," Sweet Pea said, his whole body taut and tense as she tugged his boxers back down, "Reall-," His words choked off as Betty went straight for the kill, curling her tongue over the head.

Her and Jughead had often only had time for one sexual favor, so it was usually sex. She'd only gotten the chance to give oral two or three times, but Jughead had never complained. She didn't think she was a star BJ-giver by any means, but clearly Sweet Pea enjoyed it too from the noise he was making as she sucked him entirely down her throat.

"Holy fuck, Betty." Sweet Pea cussed, slumping back against the wall to hold himself up, "You don't…"

"Stop it," Betty said, pulling back, "I want to." The fact that it only seemed he'd gotten harder wasn't helping his case any.

Betty placed a palm around his girth, sucking and licking and nipping, just a little graze of teeth. Not enough to break skin or to cut him, but enough so that he jumped and bucked his hips whenever she did it.

Her other hand came behind to fondle his balls, which she could feel tightening in her hand.

He wasn't going to last long.

He'd been trying to let her do her work before, not get too aggressive, but as his orgasm rose, he began to thrust in and out of her lips with a frenzy, unable to stop the motions. He grasped her hair, digging his fingernails through her locks, causing a thrill to shoot down her stomach.

"Be...beh...Betty," Sweet Pea groaned, his words quivering as he tried to speak them out loud, "I'm so fucking...god...don't stop...please," He begged. Betty wondered how long it had been for him. She looked up at him through her eyelashes. His head was against the wall, red patches forming on his cheeks as his peak rose through him.

His hands gripped the back of her head. Saliva dripped in between her fingers as she took him deeper. As her lips came in contact with his base, Sweet Pea's knees shook and threatened to buckle. He released one hand to reach out for the corner of the countertop to keep himself standing.

"Cooper, I'm about to...you might want to-," He began to say, but Betty wasn't going to waste items to clean up after him; certainly not water or cloth that they'd have to clean later. She gripped him harder, feeling him pulse as he finished. The warm, salty tang she'd only tasted a handful of times coated the back of her tongue as she swallowed.

"Holy fuck," Sweet Pea said. Betty sat back on her haunches, grinning at her own forwardness. As soon as she'd detached, Sweet Pea sank down on the wall, his legs having given out. He sat in front of Betty on the floor of the bathroom, breathing heavily, staring at her with such a look that Betty could not decipher.

She ran the pads of her finger along the edge of her lips, and then her chin, wiping the wetness on her shirt.

"Better?" She asked.

"You're joking, right?" Sweet Pea laughed, "Best blow-job I've ever had."

"Awe," Betty slapped his knee, "You're just saying that.

"I'm not lying, serious," He said. He looked at her, frowning as though just realizing something. His eyes flickered down to her chest. She wasn't wearing a bra (she never did) but her sweater had been left on the chair of the bedroom. It was obvious that she'd gotten a little pleasure from watching him come undone around her mouth too, though she could try to claim it was the chill in the air that hardened her nipples.

Sweet Pea stood up, pulling his boxers back on. Betty stood too, but before she could say anything, Sweet Pea grabbed her arm, pulling her back toward the bedroom.

"I get it, we should sleep," Betty chuckled at his motions, crawling onto the mattress. Sweet Pea pressed a hand against her stomach, holding her in place.

"You think I'm going to let you sleep after that?" He asked, his voice rough and dark but amused.

"Oh?" Betty asked, feeling lightheaded all of a sudden.

"I owe you." He said simply, "I'd hardly be the gentleman that I claim to be if I just turned over and went to bed after that little show."

"I owed you . From Christmas. It's fine," Betty said, but it felt more rehearsed than truthful.

"Too bad." Sweet Pea replied, grinning mischievously. He raised her nightgown, bunching it just below her breasts. Betty laid back, not daring to breathe as she waited for his next move.

She felt Sweet Pea hook his fingers underneath the elastic of her underwear. He paused, as though waiting for her to stop him. Instead, Betty just bit her lip in anxious anticipation.

Agonizingly slowly, he pulled it down her legs. The cold air of the night against her exposed center made her shiver, until Sweet Pea's large hands slid up the inside of her thigh, pausing at the point where her legs met her torso.

She knew she was already turned on; she had been since she walked into the bathroom. To know he was so close was torture to her and set her entire lower body in flames.

"Please," She whimpered, "Please, Sweets."

She had half-expected his fingers again since he'd so expertly brought her off with them before. She would have jumped completely off the bed, had Sweet Pea's left hand still holding her down at her stomach when his tongue licked the length of her slit.

"Awe, fuuuu-," Betty ended it with a low hiss as she covered her face with her hands.

"Good?" Sweet Pea paused to ask, and she could tell from how his breath landed he was looking up. Betty could only manage to nod jerkily in response, overwhelmed by how everywhere he touched was light setting electrical impulses up and down her skin.

Sweet Pea chuckled with a self-satisfied haughtiness that he completely deserved as he descended upon her.

His tongue focused on her clit, flicking the hooded nub with precision and practice. Two fingers teased her entrance, covering himself in her juices. She could feel herself becoming wetter as he continued, her whole body shaking hard from how he was making her feel.

"More, more," She whispered, fingers digging into the bedsheets.

She cried out as Sweet Pea plunged three fingers into her. He lifted his head to work them in and out languidly, rubbing every nerve surrounding her center, curling his fingers inside of her. Betty panted, groaning unrestrained.

"You like that?" Sweet Pea asked in a deep voice, "You like feeling me drive you to that point of no return?"

"Yes," Betty exhaled, "God, yes."

"You taste so good, Betty," Sweet Pea said, diving back in, "Like chocolate. I could have this every day."

How she wished. How she so much wanted this to happen every day.

Like the dream, to make it normal. Domestic.

Just the thought of that, not of Sweet Pea and Betty but of SweetPeaAndBetty and the thought that, if she let her soul lift from this moment, she could pretend it was always like this. That alone was enough to pull her over the edge, and she came, biting the inside of her palms as she felt the most blessed finish.

Sweet Pea leaned back, fingers edging along his mouth, staring at Betty with a wide, wolfish grin.

"Thank you," Betty whispered, though only a thank-you felt disingenuous to what he'd given her and what she felt.

"Fair's fair," Sweet Pea said, jumping under the covers. Without thinking, he pulled Betty up against him, nose inhaling at her crown, "Night, Betts."

"Night," Betty replied, but instead, she stayed up for a very long time, listening only to the sound of his breathing and wondering how the greater powers above could have given her something so wonderful and yet so far from her touch.

XXxxXX

 _February 11th, 2019_

"I know that you don't want to go out," Sweet Pea said, leaning against the counter of the kitchen, "But, well, it's rather needed, isn't it?"

"I will survive without any flour just fine," Betty said, sighing and trying not to look at the bags of flour, completely destroyed by hungry mice and infested with bugs.

"Betty," Sweet Pea gave her a roll of his eyes, "We use flour in near everything and we don't have enough wheat to try to make our own yet," He said, "Next winter, perhaps, but we...it was…" Betty saw his swallow, a deep frown on his face.

"You did your best. Crops are finicky," Betty said, knowing he felt awful about it overall.

"Still. We'll need to pack the new flour better." Sweet Pea said, "Look, we'll try to hit up some houses near here. Not town. As soon as we get…" He did a count of the bags near the door to be thrown out, "Ten bags, we'll come right back. Nothing more, nothing less."

Betty fidgeted with the hem of her sweater, "Eight. I can make-do with eight," She said, "And fine."

"We'll be okay," Sweet Pea said quieter, grasping her fingers and kissing the ends of them, "You have me." He added, his voice taking a more joking tone.

Betty wouldn't have left the house at all that winter if she could help it. Or, ever again. The appeal of the outside world had basically lost all charm, big surprise there. She was content with their life, and God knew she had enough day to day to do anyway.

But she was a warrior and a fighter and she wasn't going to let the fear of the unknown keep her from a much-needed foray outside. So, as Sweet Pea made sure his bat was up to snuff, Betty tucked knives and weapons all over her body. As the pair went out to the AV, since they wouldn't need an entire moving van for a flour run, Betty clutched her favorite knife (fuck, you know it's the apocalypse when you have a favorite knife) to her chest, heart pounding.

Sweet Pea handed her a helmet, they peeled back their entrance to the gate, and then they were off into the white, snowy wilderness.

Their land was rather expansive, but there was a little gathering of suburban houses only a mile or so away. The paint was peeling and the yards looked untouched, which left Betty hopeful for their intended goal. She did not want to run into anything or anyone.

The first house was one they'd looked at while trying to find their headquarters, so Betty knew it to be free of walkers unless some had moved in the six or so months since they'd come through. It was untouched, almost eerily as they'd left it.

"Hah, look!" Sweet Pea said, pointing at the kitchen table. There had been a fine layer of dust on the table then and Sweet Pea had scrawled his signature into it while waiting for Betty to decide if she liked this location or not. While the dust had started to re-coat the tabletop, the remnant of Sweet Pea's handwriting was still visible.

Betty placed a palm up near it.

When he'd written this, she'd still been pining over Jug, hoping that they'd find him alive somewhere. She hadn't even considered falling in love with him.

How things had changed.

Betty wrote 'Arianrhod' next to it, and then almost without thinking, finished it off with a heart near their names. She stood back, blinking at it for a second, almost about to erase it.

No, leave it, she decided.

She half hoped Sweet Pea would see and question its presence.

"Ah-ha! Two!" Sweet Pea said, "Err, one and a half...wait...no, probably two," Sweet Pea said, throwing Betty one unopened bag of flour, one half-used bag, and then raising a ceramic jar above his head that said 'flour' in swirly letters.

"We might as well see if there's anything else useful," Betty relented, sighing. If they were going to be out and about, she was going to make sure that this was the only time they'd need to be. She wasn't talking about a deep cleanse of the rooms, more of exploration through the...Schultz's kitchen. Or, from the unopened mail that had been tacked to their fridge nearly a year ago, that's what Betty assumed their last name to be.

Looting for their eight bags only took another three hours and six houses. In two, they had to kill the walkers that thumped around, though they were mostly animated bones than the terrifying walkers that Betty had come to know. They may have been the original inhabitants of the house, but God, at this stage Betty couldn't have even been able to tell.

It used to be that you lived and you died and you decomposed six feet below the ground. Now you lived, you died, your body came back and you decomposed in the open air.

She liked it better how it used to be.

Just to Sweet Pea's promise, they stayed no longer than what they had come for. They picked up a few more items on the way, mostly food, so the entire outing wasn't a bust. Betty wouldn't admit it, but she was glad of the supplies they now were roping to the back of the AV.

"Home we go?" Sweet Pea asked, his voice muffled by his helmet. Betty, starting to relax, gave a thumbs up.

They took a different route home, so as not to run into any uglies and to cover their tracks. Not that they'd seen anyone else, but still.

They went through a more mechanical part of the town, something that had worn metal sheds galore and abandoned machinery scattered around like a car graveyard.

Betty couldn't describe it. She was holding onto the handles, Sweet Pea guiding it behind her when she looked at one of those sheds and was just overcome by the most unbearable feeling of loneliness. It did not creep or linger, but it sprung at her like a tiger hiding in the shadows, clutching her and taking the breath right out of her.

By the time they reached back home, Betty was a near inconsolable mess.

"Betty! Oh my god, are you...what's wrong?" Sweet Pea asked, jumping off and grasping her shoulders, seeing her tear-streaked face and her shaking shoulders.

"There's...no one...here…" Betty gasped out, as though it was just hitting her now how estranged they were, how empty the entire world felt. They'd gone through an entire subdivision of houses and not seen a person there, not a hint of anyone's presence for a long time.

"What?"

"We're just...it's not...it's so...empty…" Betty couldn't start to describe the feeling to Sweet Pea that was clinging, it was entirely unprecedented and illogical to begin with. It wasn't a new thing, their waywardness here, but something about the day's events and the empty sheds with abandoned cars and motorcycles made her feel like such a small, insignificant being in this great wide universe.

The stars would shine and die and the world would change and maybe this is how they'd go? Maybe humanity would die out and it would be nothing more than a blip in the entire span of time that some great god was scrolling and casting out on a ribbon. Everything humanity had done, all the worldly good and bad, would not be remembered it. It would cease to exist. There would be no one around to witness what they'd done or what they'd left, and their planet would spin and spin and spin until it was gone too.

Betty's legs gave out and she fell into the fluffy snow, the chill biting at her lips and cheeks and making her runny nose harden.

"Are you okay?"

"No. yes, I don't know," Betty sniffled, pressing her cool mittens to her face, "I just…" She gave a choked laugh, "Does it matter?"

"Does what matter?" Sweet Pea's voice was soft, terrified.

"This?" Betty waved a hand, "Or are we going to die anyway?"

"Everyone dies eventually, Betts," Sweet Pea said, measuring his words out like he only had so much to give.

"But will we have done all of this work and be offed by a walker? Or I die or sickness and then go mad and bite you? Or someone else does us in any way? And it just never even mattered?"

Sweet Pea stood, as though angry.

"You matter. I think you do. I think what we've done matters because it makes a difference to me," He hissed, so angry he couldn't even express words, "It fucking matters."

Betty gave an empty laugh, "Yeah, okay."

Sweet Pea stormed inside. After a few quiet seconds, like someone else was pulling her arms and legs, Betty began to bring the items they'd found inside of the house, though if she believed it was all going to shit anyway, it didn't make a difference if they died from starvation or from a walker bite.

The numbness inside of her would not relent.

XXxxXX

 _February 18th, 2019_

Sweet Pea walked around pissed for days. He slept elsewhere, a spare bedroom, and he hardly talked to Betty.

Betty, though, walked around in a weird sort of fugue state, her mind muddled and questioning everything. She did things out of practice and need, not because her body was screaming to stay alive. She ate because her body told her to, but everything tasted like cardboard. She slept because she was tired, but did not feel it fully. She kept warm because goosebumps raised upon her skin, but not because the chill bothered her.

She felt closer to a walker than a human.

Sweet Pea tried talking to her once or twice, but she realized that he became frustrated quickly and flat-out avoided her. If she had the feelings left, perhaps she'd care.

At night, she was plagued by the faces of everyone left behind, everyone she was sure was dead too. Some nights, she saw her own face in the piles, and she couldn't even feel sad.

It was a strange week of her life, looking back.

She wasn't sure what snapped her out of it. She wasn't sure what brought it on, although she would get her period a few days later, and she wondered if that had something to do with it. Or, maybe her body just needed time to realign.

She wouldn't say that her emotions overcame her but she woke up wondering distinctly where Sweet Pea was.

She found him outside of their gated area, a shotgun across his lap and his bat near his feet. The body of one walker lay bloody and unmoving next to the chairs. It had clearly died either at a different season or a much more temperate climate since it was wearing a tank-top and short-shorts. Sweet Pea was staring out at the road, like he was waiting for someone, drinking a beer.

Sweet Pea looked at her approaching, then sneered, biting his lip as he turned away.

There was a second chair pulled out by him.

"Can I sit?"

"Can you, or would that mean actively doing something?" Sweet Pea bit out, "Or, fuck it, let's take it one step farther into this existential crisis. Does this chair even exist? Do we, or are we just noises and numbers from some giant computer's brain and nothing we do makes a bloody difference."

Betty wrapped her arms around her, nodding and sighing, "I deserved that." She paused, "So…?"

Sweet Pea waved a dismissive hand, jaw clenched hard.

Betty sank down into the chair, looking out at the bright sun that pelted against the snowy landscape, sparkling the untouched snow like a field of diamonds in front of them.

"The world is fucked," Betty said quietly, her voice quivering, "I think I just sort of put two and two together the other day," She felt the need to explain herself, but the realization struck her sitting her, so abruptly that she felt stupid for not realizing it sooner.

Sweet Pea raised an eyebrow but didn't move otherwise.

"I think a part of me just kept hoping that things would change, it would go back. That we'd wake up to the Army pounding on our door, telling us they fixed it all and we'd go back to Riverdale. That school would open, Pop's, the Drive-In even too. That I'd see my mom and Polly or Jughead and Archie and Veronica and Kevin. That things would just re-start, like a machine just going back to where it began, like this entire thing was just that one weird summer or something. That we'd all laugh about it and I'd go to college and life would just go on," Betty said, feeling tears well up, "But it's not. It's really not. If it was going to, it would have. It cannot be reversed, even if things did get under control. It's really going to be like this."

She took in a few shaking breaths, "The world is fucked and it's never going back to the way it was before."

Sweet Pea looked at her hard, a sort of pitying look on his face.

"Isn't that just something?" He whispered, reaching a palm out. An invitation.

"You knew that, didn't you?"

"I suppose I came to the same realization you just did about three or four months ago," Sweet Pea sighed, shrugging, "With far less dramatics, mind you."

They sat in comfortable silence for a little bit, listening to the absolute, unflinching silence around them.

"How did you...get through it?" Betty asked, leaning her chin on her other available hand.

"Well, I had to ask myself, what was I living for in my old life? Admittedly, not much. The serpents, a good meal, music...I can't say my motivations have changed, though the scale of it has," He said, looking at Betty, "We make our own fate, our own meaning. It's always been that way, even without walkers killing humans and fucking up supermarkets and all. And I feel like I'm living better than I did in Riverdale. That what I do here matters even more, even stronger. I can't describe it, but it's true."

Betty listened, nodding to herself.

"So, what mattered to you?" Sweet Pea asked.

"Those I cared about," She murmured, "And, well, I suppose the people have changed, but the sole of the feeling hasn't. And my ambitions. I used to want to be a journalist, maybe a…" She broke off before she said 'maybe a mother' but that's what she'd been considering.

"So why can't you?" Sweet Pea asked, "We either survive this or we don't. Either way, one day, someone may come along and find our records. Since we're the only ones around, we get to write the narrative. We're the winners they used to talk about in history class."

"Who woulda thought...a kid from the wrong side of the tracks and a prissy two-shoes," Betty said, cracking a smile, the first true and happy emotion in a long while. Sweet Pea gave her a wide grin back.

"And isn't that something?"

* * *

 **So, if you couldn't tell, we have FINALLY looped back around to the date that occurred in the first chapter. All of this, all the chapters leading up to this, have been more like a looking back on HOW they reached the point they are at and the length of time since they've seen live humans.**

 **If you think about it in this way, we have reached the end of what I like to call 'part one'. I see this story having two parts, but that might change. Point is, I didn't feel like the story and the next chapters were separate enough to be called a whole other book, but I also thought it was important to make note that Part 1 sets up everything that's going to happen in Part 2 and it's important to sorta know that it is different.**

 **As you can probably guess, a huge change that will happen as we go into part 2 is that they'll switch from just partners to significant romantic others. Their time completely alone will also shift, as in, this next part we'll start to see other humans pop up. A lot of their choices into part two is directly related to part 1 events, and a lot of this last chapter specifically. Also, sorta, a warning. We're going to get into some pretty dark subjects. Subjects that, for a zombie!AU story we've sorta ignored or avoided so far, but are going to pop up in some of the next few chapters. I'll put trigger warnings before the chapters for you all, just so you're aware.**

 **I made a playlist for these first 17 chapters, btw, if you guys wanted to listen to it all in one! If you do, I'd love to hear your thoughts upon listening to all the songs as a whole instead of maybe just looking them up as they appear or are posted by me? Either way, I have the spotify and youtube playlist links on my tumblr (youngbloodlex22) if you want to give it a listen or subscribe to the lists!**

 **Lastly, I've posted a VERY smutty Bughead story for those of y'all that ship both ships. It's called 'Definition of Want' and is pretty much the antithesis of this story XD Smutty, fluffy, cute, funny...yep.**

 **Please oh please, if ya like this, remember to review!**


	18. Track 17: Sacrilege Sister

**Thank you so much to my followers: bluexaphyre, Chloe0x0, and Guest!**

 **Guest: Isn't that funny when that happens! Glad you're enjoying that one too!**

 **This is likely both the chapter you all have been waiting for, but the one that none of you wanted to happen ;) Enjoy!**

* * *

 _In an underground bar with a broken transistor,_

 _the last woman on earth,_

 _who could resist her?_

 _I wanna live in sacrilege, sister_

 _I wanna live in sacrilege, sister_

Sacrilege Sister-Quickfix

* * *

 _March 2nd, 2019_

Betty paused her motions of zip-locking flour back into the plastic bag, staring through the hallway to the entrance to the house where Sweet Pea was shucking off his clothes for the day. She watched his motions, realizing that he always took his snow-gear off in the same pattern.

First, his scarf, unraveling it from around his nose. It was a Gryffindor scarf, the fucking nerd, (and, if she wanted to trump his nerdiness, she wasn't entirely sure he was a Gryffindor, but that was neither here nor there) from a Hot Topic they'd hit up somewhere in Indiana. He would carefully twine it around his hand into a little snake of a coil, setting it on the stool near the door. Then, his mittens, using his teeth. After was his hat, and he'd always run his fingers through his hair, messing it up before he would use the back of his palm to part it.

After was his boots, shook off and beat against the floor to shake the snow from its soles. Last was his coat, unbuttoned with his fingers.

Sometimes he'd have a sweater on, a thick woolly thing with Nordic designs. He'd first made fun of them until he realized how toasty he felt with it on. He wasn't doing much complaining about that anymore.

On the days he had a sweater on, he'd take that off too, as they kept the main part of the house pretty warm. On those days, sometimes his shirt would begin to ride up too, and Betty was able to catch a glimpse of his chest.

He did all of this while humming whatever song was on his mind that day. Today, she thought it was either Bareilles' 'Brave' or Katy Perry's 'Roar'. She'd never realized how similar they sounded until her mind was switching between the pair of them.

Sweet Pea whistled as he came into the house, spying Betty at the countertop. She looked down quickly, finishing her task she'd started ten minutes ago before she was distracted.

"Betty Cooper," Sweet Pea said, slamming his hands on the counter-top, "You are a liar."

"What?" She blinked rapidly.

"You heard me," He said.

"I was only looking because I-," Betty began, but saw the confusion his face, "What are you talking about?"

"The hot tub. What were you talking about? Checking me out?" He teased.

Yes. "No." She coughed, "Explain...hot tub?"

"Right. Yes. That thing? On our porch?" He asked, waving a hand in the direction of the area that it was currently housed in, "We've been here, what, more than two months?"

"Try more like eight or nine."

"And I said no untruthful statements. More than two months," Sweet Pea responded without missing a beat, "And you said we'd use it and we haven't once. My leg is hardly even a scar now!"

Betty opened her mouth to argue, but in the end, she found no good reasons why not.

"Look, I'll give you a spare solar battery. You gotta do all the work, alright? Clean it, get it warm...all the bells and whistles."

"And you'll join me?"

"Well," Betty laughed, "Even I won't say no to a hot tub, Sweets. I'm just not going to put the energy into it."

"Like you have better things to do."

"Well, I was going to keep looking for my name-,"

"Grease."

"What?"

"Grease. The Musical and fantastic 80s movie. That's a huge jump of a hint. Now, will you help me? Please?" Sweet Pea said, giving her his best puppy-dog eyes. Betty gave a long sigh.

"Fine."

 _March 5th, 2019_

As it turned out, hot tubs weren't ready within a day, even with proper care and maintenance and common use. For a hot tub that had been mostly collecting dust in the corner of a room, it took three days. On usual, Betty would say this was far too much effort for one thing, but it made Sweet Pea so happy she couldn't quite say no to him. If he knew that he was her weakness, it would be all over.

Finally, after hours of tinkering and filling and heating and lots of chlorine, by the time the sky was darkening the stars were popping through the darkness, the hot tub was ready to be used.

Sweet Pea mixed the margaritas. Betty was thrown back to Lodge Lodge, the one where the famous foursome of them went so long ago. But it really wasn't that long ago, was it? It just felt like it.

She remembered the whole 'Veronica and Jughead kiss to make things even' and how that had seemed a little weird and that Veronica was much more into it than she expected. Her best friend could have acted like it was difficult, for God's sake!

Betty wasn't going to speak ill of the possible dead. Plus, she wanted to remember the good memories over the bad.

She licked the side of her margarita glass in the bedroom, realizing she didn't actually own a swimsuit? On the packing list of what to grab during an apocalypse, cute swimwear (or, really, any at all) somehow hadn't made the list. Shocking.

She threw on an old t-shirt, wrapped her terry-cloth robe around her and came out to the hot tub. Sweet Pea was already lounging, his long arms stretched over the edges, staring off at the winter scene underneath them. There was something picturesque about it; the hot tub on the edge of the world, it felt like, the steam rising up and hissing as it hit the cold air. Below them were white, pristine, untouched. It had just snowed yesterday. It looked like a painting.

He turned as she came in. His eyes were smoldering dark, cataloging her up and down, even with a bathrobe on. It reminded her so much of a moment long ago, at the Wyrm, as she'd been doing the Serpent's dance. She remembered how he hadn't been able to keep his eyes off her, a particular brand of curiousness seeping into his expression. Something dark, but not evil, and inexplicably warm.

"I uh...don't have a suit…" She jolted herself from her memory, playing with the ties of her robe, wondering if Sweet Pea was having a similar issue.

"Yeah?" Sweet Pea asked, eyes glimmering, "Neither do I."

"So you're just...in underwear?"

"Why ruin a perfectly good pair in the middle of the apocalypse?" Sweet Pea asked, raising an eyebrow as though it was the most casual thing in the world.

Betty felt her face turn bright scarlet, all the blood rushing upwards. She opened her mouth to speak but found no words. What was she even going to say to that anyway? She honestly couldn't tell if he was trying to get a rise or just stating the facts. She couldn't have been able to tell since males were usually shirtless in the hot tub, but she was pretty sure that Sweet Pea just told her that he was naked in there.

He jaw hung open uselessly as she tried to finagle any sort of intelligent sound.

"I put the bubbles on, Cooper," He said in a low, inviting croon, "Can't see a thing, especially not in this darkness."

"Well, I…" She started to formulate an argument until she asked herself 'why'? Why was she going to argue against this? What was holding her back?

"Look, I'll even close my eyes until you're in," He said, leaning his head back, deep into the water, "It's fantastic here, Betty," He goaded, "You're missing out."

Betty drank two large sips of her margarita, making the choice before she chickened out. She undid her robes, pulling off her shirt and bra in one fell swoop. Then, her underwear. She paused, toying with taking them off or jumping in like this.

But Sweet Pea was right. The Chlorine would totally kill the fabric, and god, who could afford that anymore? It was much more reasonable to go skinny dipping, logistically.

"Still not in!" Betty squeaked as she saw Sweet Pea start to crack an eye open. She grabbed the handle of her drink and jumped in, not allowing herself to acclimate to the heat. It burned over her skin, but nothing was as warm as the full-bodied flush from her mixture of embarrassment and sexual desire.

She gasped out, "My God, are you trying to boil yourself?"

"If you hot tub, you gotta hot tub right," Sweet Pea said, "Can I open my eyes?"

"Yes." She sighed, making sure her body was well-below the water-line. Only her collar-bone and face were bobbing above the ticklish bubbles.

Under the water, she curled her legs under her body, choosing a seat across from Sweet Pea, careful not to be too touchy-feely.

"Relax, Airahnood. You're in a hot tub at the end of the world," He said, spying her jumpy flight-or-flight expression, "We're in a hot tub at the end of the world and we've survived. We even have a margarita and your wits about you. Just...mhh...relax…" He said, drifting down until his chin skimmed the water's surface.

Betty closed her eyes, settling her head against the edge. It was relaxing. Now that she was sitting in the water, it wasn't as hot as she'd first thought. It was incredibly enjoyable and seemed to wash away her aches and worries. They should hot tub more often.

"Aye, I second that," Sweet Pea mumbled, "You said that out loud."

Most of the night they just spent in silence, soaking up the good soothing vibes, Betty was glad that Sweet Pea didn't feel the need to include a lot of mindless chatter. It was enough to just be here, existing in the hot tub, silent. Being naked soon wasn't even a thought in her mind; she sort of forgot she was stripped down.

Until something slimy touched her thigh.

She half-screamed, jumping to the other side of the hot tub.

"You cleaned this thing, right?"

"Well, might just be a leaf, damn woman!" Sweet Pea laughed, "We are half-way outside," He teased.

Betty had settled on his upper leg, perching there. It was only as her exhilaration of the fear at the moment eased away from her that she realized that she had fallen almost on his lap.

And he was incredibly hard.

"You sneaked a peek of me," She muttered, fingers reaching out for the offending object. Not his hardness, but the object that had brushed her. And wow, yeah, it literally just was a leaf. She felt stupid.

"What before?" He asked, "Naw. But the idea that I know that I'm here with a naked girl...that's pretty much enough," He said, unabashed. Betty bit her lip, trying to scowl to cover up how all of the heat she'd been collecting had dropped straight between her legs.

Nothing between them. Absolutely nothing. Just water and bubbles and air and that wasn't much at all.

Sweet Pea's fingers were resting on her hip. Slowly, as though he was trying not to spook Betty, he turned her. His wet fingers tracing up her neck, across her cheeks, to the nape of her neck. Betty felt as though their hearts were beating in one, in unison, a frantic fluttering tone.

"Are we about to make a stupid decision?" She asked.

"Stupid? Perhaps. A good one? Absolutely," Sweet Pea mumbled, pulling her down against his lips. Betty moaned, placing her hands on his shoulders to brace herself, trying to figure out where to put her legs. She was currently seated on just one of his legs, but held herself up, unsure if there should be total contact or no contact. She could feel his length press against her stomach, sending shivers up her body, despite the heat of the hot tub.

He tasted like the lemons in the margaritas. As he bit her lip, he licked along the inside of her mouth, trying to delve deeper and deeper in. He was everywhere at once, warmer than the heat of the hot tub, making her wetter than the water. His fingers pulled her up and resituated her onto his lap, her legs pressed around his thighs.

At the brush of his length against her opening, both of them gasped and shuddered. He didn't ask if it were okay, but Betty knew it was because he trusted her to have the autonomy to tell him if he was crossing a line.

But she wanted to cross more.

She ground down, rubbing herself against his cock, teasing him as the head slipped on her folds.

Sweet Pea growled into her mouth, a literal feral growl, clenching down. He lifted her up in the water, where she was weightless, and for one second she was sure he was going to impale her on him in the water, but instead he pulled them both out of the water.

They were dripping all over the floor, making a mess, but Betty couldn't care. The air was chilly, almost uncomfortable, but Betty hardly noticed. She stood on her tiptoes while Sweet Pea leaned down, trying to devour each other through their mouths, pressing against each other as though they were connected by their flesh.

Sweet Pea grabbed Betty's robe in a rumpled ball, throwing it on the floor. He settled both of them to the ground, Betty laying back on the towel, his eyes catching hers.

"Jordan…" She whispered, unable to articulate more.

"I know, babe, I know," He murmured against her lips, one of his fingers going back for her mound. He slipped his fingers up with her juices before plunging three in at once, stretching and easing and preparing. Betty mewled and panted, legs parted for him. Through the daze and the light reflecting off her eyes of the moon, she saw him grasp a little foil packet. He ripped it off with his teeth, using one hand to expertly put the condom on. Betty was seconds away from making a pithy joke about teenage pregnancy and the apocalypse, but all sounds died in her throat as Sweet Pea parted her legs even farther and pulled her to him.

"Last chance-,"

"If you think I'm going to tell you to stop," Betty's throat was parched, dry, "You're crazy."

"I can't...I don't think this is gonna be sweet and soft." He warned, cheeks tinged with embarrassment.

"Who said I wanted that?" Betty asked, blinking up at him.

He grinned, and despite claiming that it wasn't going to be sweet, his kiss was gentle and careful. It was unlike the others he'd given. He was overwhelmingly present, yes, but it was almost kind. Perhaps a teaser of what else he could do, or an apology, before he lined himself up and pushed completely in without pausing.

Betty gasped, letting her body adjust. He was definitely bigger than Jug, she was pretty sure. But, even so, it had been months since she'd had more than just fingers in herself, so this felt substantial. Full, she felt full. Like every inch was being touched deep within her.

"Ah, god, yes," Sweet Pea breathed out, almost a relief.

"What are you waiting for, cowboy? Move," Betty encouraged, wrapping her legs around his back.

Sweet Pea didn't need to be told twice.

He grabbed the skin of her thigh, pulling her leg up so that as he moved, he went deeper and harder than that first thrust. Betty gasped out loud, trying to angle her hips to hit that sweet spot that just teetered on the edge of pleasure and pain. She wasn't sure if it was just because she was so accustomed to this, and after a few more far-reaching movements, she found the place that felt best.

Sweet Pea held onto her skull, keeping her head from being ground into the uncomfortable floor. This certainly wasn't a good position to have sex, and her hip bones would likely ache in the morning, but it felt right. It felt satisfying that they couldn't have even made it to their bed.

"Elizabeth." She was pretty sure she head Sweet Pea mumble this, so quietly she nearly missed it. He'd never used her full name before. It sounded almost melodic when he said it, as he drew out the first sound and breathed the last.

He kissed her as much as he could manage as he moved within her. Despite his quiet, almost gentle tones, he was going hard. It was a juxtaposition; he spoke to her with a reverence that someone would give the most important person in the world, but he moved as he may never have sex again.

Betty was overwhelmed in the best way by this unusual combination. Something about the two sides of this was thrilling to her, to see that he was not altogether one way or the other.

As she started moving to meet his movements, fingers digging into his roots, she considered that she was so lucky for this. For this moment, here with Jordan, when everything else was shit. She considered how unlikely, how many variables had to have matched up for this, and for them to work so well together.

Betty was unsure if she believed in fate, but this felt a little like kismet.

Sweet Pea slid his hand between them, pinching her clit and rubbing it, causing Betty to buck up in a bolt of pleasure. She moaned, digging her face into his shoulder. She bit down, not necessarily to keep quiet, but more because of how Sweet Pea shuddered when she did so. The harder she bit down, the harder he moved, and thus the more pleasure for her. And by the time she was sure to leave imprints of her mouth against his collar-bone, she was finishing on his fingers and around him.

Sweet Pea didn't announce his completion. She could feel it, even though the condom. His hips slowed. As he gave one last hard, jerked movement, he leaned forward. His hands warmed her cheeks, holding her face as he melted into a deep kiss with her, perfectly in time with his movements. As his body stilled, his lips moved softly upward, planting a long, intimate kiss upon her forehead, something unexpected. Betty closed her eyes, already replaying that over, and over, and over. Forehead kisses were something given to loved ones, it was a sign of comfort and reassurance. It had to mean something, didn't it?

Or was that just her aching, wishing heart?

They didn't move, not at first. Betty held her breath, sure this was a dream. Sweet Pea's eyes were deep and brown, staring at Betty like his heart was breaking.

 _You should tell him._

"I...we...maybe sleep," Sweet Pea said, breaking his gaze, detaching himself from her.

Betty realized, as he spoke, how exhausted she was. The combination of the alcohol, the heat from the hot tub, and the physical exertion of sex was making her drowsy. She stifled a yawn, and Sweet Pea chuckled softly at her motion. As Betty stood up, he placed his robe over her shoulder like a gentleman offering a coat, warming her skin.

Betty couldn't hold back her second yawn, stretching and blinking wearily and fighting the quietness settling over her. Sweet Pea grabbed his sports shorts from the ground, pulling them up as he pulled her to the bedroom.

"Sweets, I…" Betty began, unsure of how to begin.

"Hmm?"

"Uhm. Nothing." She said, "Just that the cover to the hot tub. We should…" It seemed stupid, and it was a cop-out, but that was a thought. She wanted time to talk about this. She wanted to wait until they were both under the covers.

Sweet Pea snorted, "Yeah, yeah. I'll do it anyway. Gotta go to the bathroom." He said, a hint of nervousness present from the fidgeting of his hands.

Betty nodded, pulling the blankets to her chin. She heard the heavy 'thump' as Sweet Pea closed the hot tub.

Her eyes drooped. She fought to stay awake.

As she drifted off, she had one thought…

 _For sure, tomorrow. When we're both maybe more awake…_

XXxxXX

Sweet Pea stared at the reflection in the mirror, feeling as though he was being pulled apart by two different sides of him. There was the side that was giddy like a boy on Christmas. He'd just had sex with Betty, the girl he'd been over the moon about for months. It hadn't just been okay sex, and maybe it was because both hadn't gotten laid in a while, but he thought it had been sublime. And fuck, he couldn't wait to do it again. He was already getting half-hard, imagining her laid out before him, not a stitch of clothes on her. He was entirely ready to go at it again if she wanted.

The other side of him was frustrated. Frustrated because she didn't know, because of how he was as a person.

As much as Sweet Pea just wanted to let the matter drop, to enjoy this new change in their relationship, he knew he'd never be able to.

Everyone always thought he'd be a guy down for friends with benefits or a side-call. Sweet Pea just wasn't built like that. He liked relationships, stability, and defined agreements. If he was having sex with you on the regular, he expected something a bit more solid. Because, if Sweet Pea was sleeping with you more than once, he was probably half-way to loving you as it was.

So, while it might completely bite him in the ass, Sweet Pea did not think he could let himself sleep with Betty again if he didn't say what he needed to say.

That being that if they took the plunge again, he'd be a goner. He sorta was now, but he'd truly be lost in her. Not just a survival partner, but a life partner. If they were going to do this, there was no turning back for him.

And she could say she didn't see him that way. Once again, fine.

But she had to know. And he had to get an answer.

"Betty, honestly, I think I'm in love with you," He murmured to his reflection, practicing it. He said it four times until it felt easy to say before he came to the bedroom.

Betty was fast asleep, halfway on his side, face buried into his pillow. He thought about waking her but decided against it.

He may not know how much time they had remaining, but he knew they'd have at least tomorrow. So, it could wait.

As he shuffled her to her side so he could lay down, he paused.

Then, he pulled her back, cradling her head to it rested against his still-fluttering heartbeat.

 _March 6th, 2019_

In the morning light, Betty woke suddenly.

I have to tell him.

She shot up, padding around the bed for Sweet Pea, as though pressed by some unforeseen hand to guide her to him.

The bed was empty and sunlight poured into the curtained room.

She threw on a sweatshirt chilling at the edge of the bed, slipping into her slippers, and she walked to the kitchen. There was the remainder of breakfast left out for her with a note. She grabbed it, reading it out loud.

"Thought I'd let you sleep. Last night was fantastic. Let's talk later, Jordan."

Betty felt a giddy smile rise to her face as she pressed the paper against her lips, easing on her feet. She didn't even consider, for a second, that the 'let's talk' could be anything bad. She, in her heart of hearts, knew what she wanted it to be.

She remembered that Sweet Pea was fixing upon of the half-dilapidated structures on the land in preparation for the crops the next year, and since it was such a beautiful day and relatively warm (above 0 degrees), there was little reason for him to stay inside. Betty ate her food, savoring it, as she imagined Sweet Pea cooking it with care and love.

She felt like there was so much to say and at the same time, so few words that could properly express it.

She found things to do for the morning, though she was bursting and anxious to have this talk with him. Or to have a repeat of last night. Preferably both. It was only when it hit about noon that she realized she didn't even have a hangover, which surprised her. Sex really was magic, eh?

She heard the front door slam open at approximately 1:30. Betty, now dressed in jeans and a sweater, popped her head out of the room she was in.

"Sweets? Is it lunchtime or-oh my god!" She said, running over to him, from where his hand was bleeding profusely.

"Fucking...fucker...little…" Sweet Pea was cussing, his left hand clenched tight as blood poured between his digits. He fished around their emergency first-aid kit with one hand.

"Jesus, let me!" Betty demanded, opening it much more efficiently and dumping it in the foyer. She opened his palm, seeing a deep gash. Fear shot down her spine immediately.

"It's not a-,"

"No, not walkers," Sweet Pea growled through gritted teeth, "Thank god."

"Yeah," She repeated a tad confused, "What was it?" She asked as she began to dab antiseptic on the wound, holding his palm tight as he flinched and hissed.

"Fucking raccoon. Really took a bite out of me, didn't it?" He gave a low, throaty laugh, "Killed it, though, so...damn this really hurts."

"Raccoons?" Betty echoed, her voice pitching.

"Yeah? You know, trash pandas."

"I know what a raccoon is...I just…" The fear that had vanished that it wasn't a walker returned, thudding deep in her heart, "Sweets, are you fully vaccinated?"  
Raccoons carry rabies and rabies, if not treated, were incredibly deadly, even in a functioning world. In a near-dead one, the chances of death were likely higher.

"Well," Sweet Pea muttered, "As you can imagine, most of the needles in the South Side weren't for our safety, but for other activities."

"Sweet Pea," Betty clapped her hands, "This is no time to make little remarks. Are you vaccinated or are you not."

"I don't fucking know, okay?" Sweet Pea said, finally picking up on the tone of panic in her voice, "I don't remember and all I know is that it's been a really long time, so probably not!"

Betty got up immediately, "Get in the car. We're going to a hospital. Now!"

She cursed for not having the vaccine on hand. It seemed obvious and useful now, but hindsight was twenty-twenty. She would take it home with them so that if this issue came up again, they'd be square.

"What?"

"You heard me. Car. Now." Betty said, nervously playing with the bottom hem of her sweater.

"How do we know it had rabies? Maybe it's just a nasty-looking bite?" Sweet Pea said, looking at his half-wrapped hand.

"We don't," Betty whispered, "We can't know. But if you...die…" She swallowed, "Dying from rabies sucks. We're not going to have that happen. Get in the car."

The ride to the nearest hospital was deadly silent. There was a part of Betty that felt as though she should tell him now, but she refused to imagine him dying from this. Plus, in a car speeding down the road, it seemed like a bad place to express her most ardent affections. Sweet Pea was busy anyway, wrapping and dressing his wound, cleaning it out, cursing as he made sure that it was as best sanitized as he could.

"Postexposure Prophylaxis," Betty said, "That's what it's called, that's what we need. PEP. One dose today, and then one in three days, another on seven, and then fourteen. God, you probably need a tetanus shot too…"

"How do you just know this stuff?" Sweet Pea asked, frowning like he was committing this to memory.

"Because our lives depend on it. So I do." Betty couldn't explain how she did. She just knew. Rabies and wild animal bites were not uncommon in Riverdale. It was information she'd learned at first-aid lessons long ago, to be honest, and it was coming in handy now.

"PEP," Sweet Pea echoed, "You think we'll find it?"

"We gotta." Betty said.

She did the worst parking job that she'd ever done in her life, covering three spaces, but she didn't care. There were three walkers milling at the door and it felt like second nature taking them out. Sweet Pea jumped down to follow her into the care center.

Flashbacks of the last time they'd been here swirled in her head. She swallowed hard, pushing them back.

"We find it, we get out. I'll administer it right away, but let's not stay."

"Agreed. This place gives me the heebies," Sweet Pea said, but Betty wasn't in the mood for his jokes right now.

"Maybe we should-,"

"Split up? Naw, fuck that," Sweet Pea shook his head firmly, "We do things together."

"But Sweets-," Betty motioned to his hand helplessly.

"I'm not gunna keel over and die right now. Together, Betty," He insisted, kissing her forehead. Betty's mouth went momentarily dry, thinking about that note and last night, but she shook it away. Once he was safe and had the vaccine, then they'd talk. Soon.

They began to dig through cabinets. She could hear Sweet Pea muttering the name of the medicine under his breath as he rifled through the cabinets, knocking other items noisily to the ground.

If they both weren't so concerned, so focused on their task, perhaps they would have noticed sooner. Noticed a trail of footprints in the dust settled around them, about a door cracked open, about a newly-killed walker near the left stairwell. They may have heard the creaking of the elevator doors, the faint and quickly hushed whisper, or the car backfiring outside.

But they didn't.

"Nothing here! You?" Betty ground out, brushing off her pants.

"Still got another cabinet to my left," Sweet Pea said, his voice echoing as he stuck his head into the cabinet to rifle, "Got tetanus, but no PEP yet!"

"There's a nurse's cart by the door. I'm going to check it."

Sweet Pea sent a look back to see it right in his vision and nodded firmly.

Betty leaped up, fingers fishing around the nurse's cart. She threw bandages and sutures left and right, digging as her heart grew colder and colder. She would not lose Sweet Pea to rabies, not today, not like this. It was so unfair. She would not lose him right when she felt like she might have him, not like Jughead. Or Archie. Or Veronica. She had to find this.

A pair of strong hands wrapped around her. She didn't even have time to cry out as a cloth was pressed firmly to her lips.

She reached for the back of Sweet Pea's figure, trying with all her might to make sound or to punch backward, but the world faded into black around her.

* * *

 **How evil am I you all? Do you all hate me right now lol? If you do, I get it ;) We can't have everything go smoothly, especially since it's been so long since there have been actual 'others' around! What sort of predictions do y'all have?**


	19. Track 18: The End

**Just another warning, we are going to get into some very darkish things over the next few chapters, which is sorta per usual in a zombie!AU fic, but I still wanted to warn people! Our two favs are in for some trouble, sadly.**

 **Lots of people are always asking for more Sweet Pea POV. Usually, unless there's something that needs clarifying, I don't often find the need to give him as much headspace. Also, he and Betty up until this point were sorta a one-track mind. As in, they just click so well that at the house day-to-day, we don't need to see both of their thoughts. Welp, it's different now. We're going to be seeing quite a bit of Sweet Pea's POV and you guys might hate me for it XD**

 **The song title doesn't mean this is the end of the story, in fact, I have the next two chapters written because this arc is just so evil and interesting and it's sorta like a trainwreck. I just can't stop writing it. It more refers to the end of their time completely alone with no other human contact.**

 **Song is The End by The Doors.**

 **Thank you to my reviewers: Chloee0x0, Red23, Ava, and victorialexington!**

 **Red23: I update this story once a month! So around the 4th of every month, be on the lookout for a new update! The dynamic is def going to change, for good or worse...read on!**

 **Ava: I get it! It was a busy time of the year and all. Yes, our favs are finally on the same page...shame if something were to...make it difficult to explain this to each other**

* * *

 _March 6th, 2019_

Sweet Pea's fingers groped helplessly through the half-picked over cabinets. His head swam with a fear that hadn't come to pass, but might very well. He shouldn't have been digging so blindly in the wooden structure. He should have double-checked. But hell, that raccoon came flying out of fucking nowhere. At least it was dead now, but god damn that bite had hurt!

He was so stupid, he hadn't even considered rabies!

Damn, he'd be dead five times over if it weren't for Betty.

Betty Cooper, honest to god, probably the love of his life.

He should have woken her to tell her this morning, but she looked so beautiful sleeping. He had thought what was the harm of letting her have a couple more hours? Of making her a nice breakfast for her to wake up to?

It seemed all they had was endless time, so the idea that they wouldn't have any had been laughable.

Of course, of course, he had to go and get bitten.

His fingers found a small vial. It was half-ripped off, but he caught the end of it. Or the beginning of it, rather.

"POSTEXPOSURE PROPH-,"

He turned it around, "PEP," He breathed out loud, "This...this is it! Betty! I got it. Betty?"

He realized he hadn't heard her moving things on the cart for a few minutes. It had been oddly quiet on her front.

Sweet Pea stood, setting the PEP next to the tetanus shot and a few unused needles. He peered out into the hall but saw nothing.

Which was terrifying, because Betty was supposed to be right there.

Fuck.

If it was walkers, he'd heard it, wouldn't he?

"Okay, don't panic yet," He mumbled to himself, but something in his gut didn't feel right. FP had taught him many lessons, but the most salient one was always to listen to what your stomach was telling you. And, if he'd been more attentive, he would have realized that the ball of ice was not related to his possible rabies case.

It was something much worse.

Yep. Time to panic a little.

As he was turning around to grab his trusty bat, something hit him on the back of the head. Hard.

His eyes broke with stars as he felt a sharp pain on the back of his skull. Sweet Pea, who was made of stronger stuff, stumbled a few steps. He felt the back of his head and felt a sore area. No blood, no cuts. Just going to leave a helluva bruise and a fucking bad headache.

Enraged, he turned to find two men. Is it two, or is his vision screwy? Damn it, it's two.

They were somewhere between the ages of twenty and thirty, not too much older than he was. One had a crowbar, and this time when he swung it, Sweet Pea barely dodged it. The other was outfitted with a small, but rather deadly, looking knife. Sweet Pea wasn't the type to laugh at the smallness of weapons (first off, just rude) because he knew that something super small could still leave your guts ribboned like confetti.

"Two against one? Fucking unfair," Sweet Pea hissed to himself, trying to get a good read on both of them.

FP also told him to always watch his opponent. Not to keep one eye on them (duh!) but to catalog who they were and what their weaknesses were right away.

Sure, he'd done two against one match before. If you were a Serpent, you couldn't be so pathetic as to imagine you'd only ever be facing a dude one-on-one, like a video game or some bullshit. It didn't mean that Sweet Pea had been looking forward to this today, and that head-shot was really uncool of them.

Of course, he assumed it was meant to kill him, or at least knock him out.

He didn't even have time to consider this was the first humans he'd seen besides Betty in forever. Humans could go the hell away, considering these ones were pretty much trying to kill him. He'd take isolation any day over this!

Sweet Pea grabbed for his bat. Before he could grab it though, the crowbar hit the back of his knees. He crumbled, barely missing the weapon coming down right by his head. Then he jolted the other way, missing the knife as it came down and just grazed his ear.

Sweet Pea kicked out his legs at the same time he grabbed the knife with his fist, throwing it far away, despite the cut that it would leave on his palm.

These fuckers were messing with the wrong survivor.

The man with the crowbar, probably a former college student, crumbled to the ground. The dude with the knife, who looked a few years younger (Freshman? High school senior? Hard to tell at a quick glance, Sweet Pea decided) cursed as he tried to find another weapon.

Sweet Pea attacked viciously. They clawed and hissed, all three of them, like feral cats, circling around and brushing for the first couple moments. The two were sharing looks that Sweet Pea didn't like, a silent language exchanged. No. That was not going to fly. So, things were going great as they Rosetta-stoned it out...until Sweet Pea got fed up and he lunged.

Take out the younger one first. The stronger one would put up more of a fight, so that would be the most reasonable first hit, but he also had a feeling that he was going to be a pain in his ass.

The smaller one was unarmed now. Sweet Pea grabbed his head and pulled down the same moment he snapped his knee up, hard. He felt his knee connect with the younger one's nose as it shattered. The younger one slumped to the ground, blood oozing onto the floors. It took maybe two seconds at most to execute this. Messy, but effective.

One down.

He managed to duck right before the second one got another nasty head-wound in. As he spun, he cast his arm out to catch the older kid by the stomach, knocking the wind out of him momentarily. He wrestled the kid, grasping the man in a headlock. He thought it was going to be done as he strengthened his hold, aiming to knock the more seasoned attacker out. As the older one lost air, the crowbar hit the ground with a resounding clang. Sweet Pea made sure to kick that one far away too and he tightened his hold.

He wasn't looking to kill either of them yet, but goddamn who could blame him if he accidentally squeezed him a bit too hard? The kid clawed back frantically, digging hard into Sweet Pea's arm and drawing blood, but gave that up soon. His fingers fished, finding a surgical scalpel on the ground and digging it into Sweet Pea's leg. Sweet Pea hissed but did not let up.

"Fuck you," He snarled, "You should have hit harder the first time," He added. Taunting the enemy was childish, yes, but this kid should know where he fucked up. Because now? Now Sweet Pea was going to end him.

The kid sucker-punched him. As Sweet Pea was wheezing, he managed to get the upper hand. He was stronger than he seemed and was able to slam Sweet Pea to the ground. Sweet Pea's nose connected hard with the floor, and he heard the crack. Blood poured over his lips, down his chin.

A nose for a nose. Fair, but whatever. Hurt like a bitch.

He had assumed this one to be a bit better, but only a bit. Overall, had underestimated him entirely. This dude was a far bigger challenge. The younger one was still out for the count on the ground. Sweet Pea sort of hoped he choked on his own blood. The college kid grabbed Sweet Pea's hair to savagely bludgeon him against the linoleum floors, but Sweet Pea squirmed. He wasn't going to make this easy.

As the boy struggled with his hold, and the reality of the situation crashed upon him (Fuck, this kid was really trying to kill him! This is how he could go out! This really sucked!) he ripped the scalpel from his leg. It hurt and Betty was going to have a field day with him, but his bat was too far away and there weren't many other weapons in his arm's reach. His bag was even farther. Damnit!

He managed to turn just enough to dislodge the kid's hold on him. He slumped off and Sweet Pea shoved him back against a row of gurneys. The metal gnashed and crashed around them as Sweet Pea grasped his face, digging the scalpel into the kid's eye.

The kid screamed. It was no scream Sweet Pea had ever heard before. It was almost otherworldly like the devil was being exorcised from his body. It was a most horrifying caterwaul, something right out of a Stephen King novel.

But Sweet Pea did not hesitant, nor even flinch.

The kid screamed and screamed and screamed on the floor of the hospital and then got very quiet.

Maybe he was dead?

Sweet Pea leaned down to feel his pulse. Weak, but there.

Okay. He now had basically two bodies. What should he do? Leave them be? Kill them now?

There was this one, Mr. One-Eye, and then there was Hardly-Legal and…

Fuck. Hardly-Legal wasn't on the floor anymore.

Sweet Pea realized a very, very, very colossal mistake only as he felt someone grab his chin from behind, and then the feel of something cold and metal being pressed against his jugular.

He hadn't been paying attention to the other one.

Then, Sweet Pea felt a blinding pain before absolutely nothing.

XXxxXX

Sweet Pea couldn't breathe right. When he woke up to darkness, the first thing he realized was that it really hurt to breathe.

His fingers flew to his neck.

There was dried blood all over. It was sticky and gross and covering his entire front like a fashion statement.

He ran a shaky finger over his neck.

Somehow, almost impossibly, Hardly-Legal had fucked up slitting his throat.

He'd done it alright, just not deep enough to cut anything fatal. Sweet Pea had been squirming around a lot, and from the scalpel on the ground, it seemed like the idiot had used the wrong side.

People make mistakes.

Thank god for that.

Okay, so a throat half-way cut open wasn't good , but it wasn't bad. Things could be far worse.

One-Eye was still on the ground. The room was abandoned in a hurry. Best Sweet Pea could imagine, the kid had thought he'd killed Sweet Pea (who, no doubt, had passed out) and had ran. Probably imagined whoever died first would turn and eat the other's body. No-fuss, no muss.

Except, well, he wasn't dead.

He wasn't sure One-Eye was dead either, to be honest.

Like he'd said, rookie mistakes. Ones that were working in his favor in a weird, deus ex machina way. This was one of the few times that Sweet Pea would consider the belief of some greater god watching over him, it should be noted.

"Betty!" his voice was hoarse like he'd been smoking eight packs a day for fifty years.

Silence.

If Betty was around, she would have come looking for him, wouldn't she?

God, if they were trying to kill him…

Sweet Pea forced himself to stand. He had to find Betty.

His vision swam and he stumbled, grasping onto a gurney before he fell face-first back to the floor. No one warned him that walking with his neck bleeding was going to be so hard. Someone should have.

What to do about this asshole too? If he was going to die, Sweet Pea didn't want to deal with a zombie. No siree. He also didn't really want to kill him right now. Call him crazy, but the idea of killing him when he was down just left a bad taste in his mouth. Plus, he must be near death anyway.

He tried to lug him to a door next to the hospital room but realized quickly that he did not have the strength for that.

Okaaaaay...plan B.

He jumped across the room for his bag, hands slick with blood (mostly his own, yuck) as he fumbled with the straps. It took three tries, and twelve seconds, to untie it and grab what he was looking for. Barley-Legal hadn't even thought to take this. Lucky for him. His fingers grasped his goal.

A gun.

He turned it to the kid, his aim true. He kicked him a few times, waking him up. The kid just moaned.

"You fucking lose," He snarled, wiping his nose, as though that would help the copious amounts of blood that had started to pour from it again.

"What?"

"I said you've lost." Sweet Pea said, "Your partner failed to kill me. And then got the hell out of dodge."

The horror of Sweet Pea's words began to settle in.

"No...he wouldn't...he-,"

"Left you here to die. Muster any strength you have and get in there. Or else," Sweet Pea commanded, cocking his gun as he motioned to the door.

"You wouldn't dare," The kid's response was watery, his voice raw from screaming, "It will bring all the stumblers out."

"You probably already did that," Sweet Pea said, eyes flickering to the scalpel sticking from his eye socket still, "And I ought to leave you to them," He said.

He paused, though, locking his jaw. Without ever dropping his carefully aimed weapon, he nodded to the adjoining bathroom. It was small and windowless. Perfect.

"In there," Sweet Pea demanded, "And no funny business. I will not hesitate to blow your goddamn brains out."

The kid shivered, realizing he'd lost. Realizing that he'd been marooned and that death was probably imminent.

He no longer looked like a brazen college man. He looked like a pathetic child.

"I need...I'll die if I don't…" He blubbered, and now that he wasn't snarling or fighting, he seemed much younger. For sure hardly over 22, Sweet Pea guessed. He seemed small and fragile when faced with his impending doom.

"Not really my problem." Sweet Pea said with a nonchalant shrug, "Get. In. There." He said, "You're lucky I'm not killing you now."

The kid stumbled across the blood-soaked floor to the bathroom. Once he was inside, Sweet Pea found a rope and tied the door closed. Then, he shoved a cabinet in front of the door, assuring that he wouldn't get getting out anytime soon. Even that taxed a lot out of him, so he'd need to be aware of his own strength that was left as he went on.

One-Eye probably would die in there. But that walker wouldn't be getting out either. He'd mark it later, he considered, holstering the gun close and safe, in case there were any other unfriendlies.

He grabbed his bag, dumping the medicine into it. He also found a piece of gauze and wrapped it around his neck until it ran out. Not exactly a good medical fix, but a quick one.

Outside, the air was chilled, as though it was responding to the terrible evil it had witnessed. The nurse's cart was stalled, things strewn everywhere, but no sign of Betty.

"Betty?" He called frantically, as loud as he could manage, "Betty! Elizabeth!"

As the light spilled onto the floor, what was left from the dusk setting outside, Sweet Pea saw a pair of footsteps and dragged feet. Fear clenched him.

At least it seemed like they didn't kill her outright, that was good, right? No corpse anywhere. No Elizabeth-like walker wandering the halls.

He had a moment of panic, something that filled him so completely. The idea of Betty as a walker. God, he didn't think he could kill it. If she was one...he might just let it get him.

He knew he'd be weak in front of it.

As far as he could tell, though, that hadn't happened. Not here, at least.

But there was no sign of a scuffle. This was worse.

He ran outside, flinging open the doors. Their car was still parked, but there, right at the side of the building. He touched the tire marks of a car that had recently squealed out of the parking lot.

He had to assume that someone had taken her. He tried to follow the trail but soon realized that they had a good head-start and he would never be able to figure it out like this. The options of where they could have gone were endless.

Furious, he stormed back inside.

Just as he was about to open the door, he realized Betty would bring back his ass from the other side if he rescued her, but never gave himself the vaccination. With trembling hands, he read the right dosage and gave himself the two shots. It was hard. The bottle was tiny, he was shaking all over and his fingers were coated with sweat and blood. He was also near crying, not just from pain but from the anguish of possibly losing Betty. The idea of her being gone forever was unbearable.

Then, he bandaged his leg wound. It wasn't deep but would need a stitch or two, but he bandaged it just right then. He didn't do any other care. His neck seemed to be holding up so far. It would leave a scar, but it wasn't bleeding any more. Most of the blood had coagulated. Yay for biology?

He knew he must look terrifying, with blood dumped down his front and bruises starting to form everywhere. He found a bottle of water and gingerly drank it all. His throat smarted like a bad cold but held up. He had the idea that he really should keep it wrapped up, to avoid infections from outside. Yep, that sounded bad.

He rapped on the front of the cabinet. Thank god he hadn't killed him.

"Hey fucker, you still alive?" He asked.

There was a weak moan from inside.

Sweet Pea shoved the cabinet back and undid the knots. He slammed the door open. The kid was wailing lowly, curled against the wall. Sweet Pea grabbed his shirt, yanking him up.

"Tell me where they went."

"Where...who-,"

"Don't play dumb," Sweet Pea shook him, "The rest of your group. The group that took my wife." He wasn't sure what possessed him to say it, but it sounded right.

The kid gave an evil smile, his teeth coated red, "Oh, her? Pretty blonde thing?" He asked.

"You didn't kill her, did you?" Sweet Pea demanded, hauling him outside, "Answer me, dipshit!"

When it seemed he wasn't going to comply, Sweet Pea pressed the gun to his temple. He wasn't afraid about the kid taking the scalpel out and wounding him with it again. First, he was far too weak. Second, he'd be likely to bleed out way sooner if he did that.

"No! No!" The kid said, flinching away from the threat of the bullet, "Men, like you, are useless. Women are a commodity."

"Commodity?" Sweet Pea echoed, "You're comparing women to...to...fucking food or Xboxes or iPods?"

"Girls as pretty and as young as she is are rare, you know," The kid said, narrowing his one good eye, "No reason to let that go to waste."

Sweet Pea resisted the urge to kill him right then and there.

He fucking needed him.

Oh, how he wished he didn't.

"You'll take me to them," Sweet Pea demanded.

"Ha. Fat chance."

"You take me there and I won't kill you." Sweet Pea said.

The boy caught his gaze, smirking, "I'm dead anyway," He said, pointing at his swollen eye, "Obviously."

"You take me there and I save your sorry excuse for a life," Sweet Pea said, "Because while I'm shit at medicine, my wife isn't. And we'll make sure you live to see another day, even if you hardly deserve it."

"Look," The kid spit, "We all become different people in this post-apocalyptic world, yeah? I bet you've done things your former self would hate. It's all relative though."

"Killing other humans and stealing girls isn't 'relative'," Sweet Pea snarled, "And you're really making me not want to save you."

"But you need me," The kid realized, and began laughing hard, "You need me and you know it."

"I'll never stop looking for her, that's a promise. And I will fucking burn your hideout down when I do. You can either die now, or you can help me and live until tomorrow. Your choice."

"How do I know you'll actually do what you say?" The boy asked suspiciously.

"Because I'm not a garbage human being like you are," Sweet Pea muttered, "And you don't. You'll have to trust me."

The boy bared his teeth, but the thought of survival was too tantalizing. Sweet Pea grabbed the ropes.

"I'm going to put these on you. You make any sudden moves, and I mean any and I will rip that out of your eye and stab you right in the knee." Sweet Pea said as he tied the kid's hands tightly. The Serpents had given him a rough upbringing, one that was coming in handy in this fucked-up world. Not just to survive walkers, but also about how to get what he wanted out of people. While this kid may have turned into a worse human after the end of the world, Sweet Pea's skeletons lay in his past. He'd turned into a fairly respectable person since he'd started with Betty, someone that made him proud. He hated that he had to pull out these tactics again. He hated that he let Betty get taken. He hated everything about this day. The knife wound, rabies, and the neck cut weren't really making it more fun.

He dragged the kid to the van. He wasn't going to give him the niceties of sitting in front. He put him in the back on a sheet, bound his feet. He made sure he could see the road for directions.

He got in the front seat and adjusted it from where Betty usually sat. Even just sitting here made him feel sad and angry and furious. He brushed his hands over the handle.

"I'm coming for you, Betts," He mumbled, "I promise."

He turned back to the kid.

"I don't really care what your name is. I'd rather not know. I'm gonna call you Nick. There was a Nick I knew before I fucking hated. Hope he's long dead now." He said, thinking of Nick St. Clair and the stories of him. Sure, this kid didn't look like Nick, but the name would do, "So, Nick, tell me. And remember, your life is on the line here. Left or right?"

XXxxXX

Betty came too, jolted awake by a rough shaking and a bump that sent her near flying. Her arms, tied above, her, yanked her back as she felt her head swim with fog. Bile rose in her throat as she was swished back and forth and she tried to make sense of what was going on.

She was in the back of a van, not dissimilar to the one her and Sweet Pea used. Though, this one was markedly different. Most noticeably, a bench had been installed along both sides. Clanking and making a ruckus was a set of handcuffs and chains attached to the wall. Betty's eyes scanned the sides as she swallowed back down her vomit.

Six on each side; twelve spaces. Currently, counting herself, eight filled. And, all of them clasping dirty looking girls at that. Most of the girls were solemn or quiet, whimpering to themselves, cheeks streaked with tears. Directly across from Betty was a girl that looked hardly over fourteen, still wearing a unicorn t-shirt and blubbering incoherently.

Betty tested the strength of the handcuffs.

"You can try all you want, darlin'," A voice startled her, "But it's no use."

Betty swung her head around to the front of the van, where, at the head of the empty space, sat a boy wearing military-esque gear, settled with an automatic rifle in his lap. He was grinning at Betty, as though her minute struggles were entertaining to him.

"Fuck you," Betty spat at him, straining as far as she could.

The boy slapped the wall behind him, "Hear that, Dean? This one has a mouth on her."

There was raucous laughter from the driver's seat and shotgun. A face peered back through a grimy window, catching Betty's eyes.

"I thought she might be trouble," Dean, or so she assumed, replied, "Ah, well, we know how to handle the mouthy ones right well enough."

Betty was whirling. She knew she had a bobby pin in her boot, and she knew that it was still there, as she could feel it digging slightly into her heel. She knew if she got the chance, she could unhook herself. She could also break her wrist and slip her hand free, but that was extreme and she hoped it wouldn't come to that.

"Where's the truck with boys?" Betty asked in a low, growled tone.

"Truck with boys?" The kid, likely college or just about out, snorted, "You're asking about that tall one that was with you in the hospital, huh? He your boyfriend?"

"Where is he?" Betty demanded, her mind running a thousand simulations and possibilities of how she could get out of here.

"Dead, most likely," The kid with the gun replied, a sick grin on his face, "Boys don't have any usefulness. Not like girls."

One of the girls across the way gave a shuddering sob.

Betty was not going to let them see her break down.

"If you're not sure, he's probably alive then," Betty said simply.

"You'd like to think so, eh? Haven't you figured out? This life is full of disappointment."

Betty tongued the inside of her cheek, raising a cool eyebrow at him. Inside, her heart was pounding like a jackrabbit, though she was not going to let this crack open, not going to let these monsters see her vulnerable. It was imperative now, more than ever, she pulled forth everything her fucked up childhood had given her.

"You'd better hope he's alive," Betty said sweetly, batting her eyes.

"Oh, why's that? You think he's gonna come and rescue you?" He asked, breaking up into a fit of laughter. Betty let him have his amusement, just for a second.

"Did, by chance, hear about a serial killer in the East? The Black Hood?" Betty asked, tilting her head and staring him down. On his jacket, she caught 'J-A-C-K', "Jack?"

"Well, aren't you smart," Jack said, which was pretty much a confirmation, "And sure. Who didn't hear about that dude? It was all over the news for months."

"Hmm. Well, the Black Hood was my father," Betty said, her voice deadly, "And between me and my sister, I'm the one who inherited his...skills. I've seen more horrors than your pathetic brain could even imagine. And my old man? He killed out of rage, though he didn't particularly hate the specific people, just the idea of them. But if I find you that you actually succeeded in killing Jordan, I will hate you, more than I already do. So, imagine how awful your death will be."

Jack swallowed, a flash of uncertainty on his face, though only for a second. He got up, storming down the aisle, pressing the gun underneath her chin.

"Gunna flinch?"

"Will you?" Betty asked. He held her gaze, shaking his head.

"I call BS," He said, "On all of it. Girls that act tough never turn out to be."

"You clearly haven't dealt with someone like me then, yet," Betty said, "I'll ruin you."

"Shut your trap, or I'll shut it for you," Jack said, pressing Betty's head back. She bit down on her lip, deciding that she didn't want to push too far.

Jack stalked back to his seat, gun pointed ominously facing the girls and popped in a pair of Airbuds. His eyes never stopped roaming, but the next part of travel was deadly silent.

Betty tried to keep track of how long it had been, but it was fairly useless. In this van, it was hard to even count minutes. Plus, she was still reeling from being knocked out and it was messing with her mind.

It seemed like forever by the time they stopped, the car still on. The sky outside was just starting to turn dark, meaning they couldn't have been driving for more than five hours. They were in a heavy wooded area, or so Betty could see when the door was opened for them.

"Be careful with this one," Jack said, pointing to Betty as a new group of men-all around the same age- jumped into the truck, "She's gonna be trouble."

The guards unlocked the girls closest to the door first. One went screaming and kicking, the other was seemingly resigned to her fate. As they exited the van, there was a hissing sound.

"Psst! You!" Betty broke her unbroken staring contest at the back of Jacks' head, imagining driving her knife into his heart, to look at a doe-eyed girl, "Yeah! Is it true? Is your dad really the Black Hood?"

Betty winced, "Quite unfortunately. Not sure where he's now, or if he's alive." She said.

"You'd better close your lips if you know what's good for you," Another girl said, shaking her head in horror at Betty, "You're going to get us all killed!" She had dark skin and piercing amber eyes. Betty had already begun to associate the first girl with a certain Disney deer, so it was easy for her to assign a momentary nickname for this girl too.

"I've been told that I often don't," Betty chuckled, having no such intention on becoming quiet and complacent, "So…"

"Don't you know who these guys are?" Bambi whimpered, cowering. Betty laughed.

"Should I?"

"They're called The Predators. I heard it was a group of frat boys from the University of Minnesota who basically went mad after the world ended. They're vile," Nala sucked in tears, "And you'll wish you were dead. They realized that they don't have to do much of anything if they have brute force on their side."

"And the whole girl thing?" Betty asked though she had a sinking feeling where this was going.

"T...t...trading chattel," Bambi squeaked out.

"Great. A human trafficking ring." Betty grumbled, "Fan-fucking-tastic."

"You seem oddly unafraid," A third girl said, with long white hair. Elsa. Or Olaf. She did have an unfortunate nose.

"I've seen much worse," Betty said honestly, "This hardly hits the top five worst times I've had." She leaned back, knowing that sometimes biding one's time was the best skill a smart person had, "We're all going to get out, I promise you that."

* * *

 **Big oof, right y'all?**

 **We're in for some more actiony things for a bit.**

 **With the whole Sweet Pea surviving a slit throat...they did it in the 100, and we're in a world where zombies run around, so just bear with me and suspend disbelief on that if you're going 'uhhh, I don't think that he'd be alive'. We're also assuming that Hardly-Legal was very shitty at killing at that moment and pretty freaked out in general.**

 **I also hope the fight scene seemed satisfying. I always have the hardest time describing combat things.**

 **I was going to have the Predators be a bit older originally, tbh. Then, I was watching Daybreak on Netflix and I realized there was something inherently terrifying about a group of basically kids fucking things up. Like going all Lord of the Flies. Then I thought of something even worse...a group of college boys with no morals following, basically, a sociopath. Yikes, ya'll. Betty's not in a good place right now.**


	20. Track 19: World on Fire

**Thank you to my two reviewers: Ava and Chloe0X0!**

 **Ava: Whew, glad to hear that fighting scene was okay!**

 **Song is World on Fire by Klergy**

* * *

 _March 6th, 2019_

"Maybe we should stop for the night."

Sweet Pea looked up from the fire, a squirrel roasting merrily over it.

"No."

"Yeah, but-,"

"Look," Sweet Pea said, checking how well-done it was, "We need to eat. It's a necessity. But the longer we wait, the bigger chance you have of succumbing to infection." He said, "And that Betty will be killed or…" He swallowed, "Worse."

Nick frowned, biting the inside of his cheek. There was a good chance that he wouldn't make it to the hide-out anyway, not with that scalpel still in his eye. Of course, Sweet Pea had him write down all he knew about the hide-out, or what he could manage on the sheets they'd found. Sweet Pea wasn't an idiot. This wasn't his first hostage.

He chuckled to himself.

"Is this chick really worth all of this?" Nick asked, waving his hands around, "You beat me, dude. You could be miles away. Alive. No one's walked away alive before."

"Did you not hear me?" Sweet Pea snapped, "Wife. She's worth it."

"Aren't you a little young. You're hardly 18."

"And you're a douchebag, but I thought we weren't saying obvious things. I guess you just wouldn't get it." At Nick's dubious face, he rolled his eyes, "A fucking misogynist like you wouldn't understand a fantastic woman like her. Women are just interchangeable to you, huh?"

There was silence on his end.

"You may have beaten me, but you won't be able to take all of 'em," Nick said after a long second, "You'll walk in there and die."

"Didn't know you cared," Sweet Pea said, taking his food off and throwing a measly limb to Nick. Nick dove for it as Sweet Pea leisurely tore the meat off the skinny bones.

"I don't," Nick said, mouth full of food, "I just...you wanted to know, didn't you?"

Sweet Pea examined him, "You were a college kid before this, right?" Nick nodded, "Ah, well, what was your major?"

Nick did not answer. He glared at Sweet Pea defiantly.

"Oh, come now, let's get to know each other a little," Sweet Pea drawled, "And humor me?"

"Accounting."

"Right, accounting," Sweet Pea drew it out, "You thought you'd get some stuffy office job, marry a...well, maybe not a 'trophy' wife, maybe more like a 'participation medal' wife, and things would just be dandy. But then the world ended and you and your little band of sickos got a taste for blood and realized you could exploit the system, right?" Sweet Pea guessed.

"Well, if-,"

"Shut up," Sweet Pea cut him off, not interested in his excuses, "Point being...this whole...thing? It's new to you. Maybe one of you was a closet psychopath before, but most of you are just stumbling along as you go. Me though?" Sweet Pea pulled down his collar, "See that tattoo? Know what it means?"

"You made bad life choices?"

"Watch it, Nick. I might have promised not to kill you, but I'm not opposed to slicing out your other eye," He said, which had Nick cowering a bit. Thank god, "It's a gang sign. Southside Serpents, near New York City. I was born in bloodshed. By the time I reached sixteen, I'd killed, I'd pushed drugs, I'd been every bad example of a clichéd mobster that you watched from the safety of your Netflix. The apocalypse is an experimental hunting ground for you? It's fucking life for me."

"And?"

"And I won't lose a lick of sleep killing every single one of you," Sweet Pea said darkly, "And I will. Maybe not easily...I know my own strengths, but I've been doing this forever. I'm leagues above all of you."

Nick licked his lips, "The Predators could use someone like you, ya know? I'd put in a good word. You could probably even keep Betsy-,"

"Betty."

"Same difference, her. Whatever. Why go through all the effort of killing us when you could just join us?"

Sweet Pea laughed out loud, "You must have just realized how incredibly fucked you are, is that it?" He threw a bone licked clean into the woods surrounding them, "You can shove your offer up your ass. I'm entirely not interested."

"I'm dead serious. We'd need people like you."

"I want zero part in whatever you have going. Honestly," Sweet Pea chewed on a leg bone, sucking out as much juice as he could, "I want to get as far away from your hideout as I can once I get my girl. I hated people before the end of the world, and this has just made me hate them even more now. I've seen enough violence forever. I just want to take my fucking wife back home and live out a simple existence and just be fucking happy but motherfuckers like you come around and ruin that, so go to hell."

"God, you really love her." Nick's tone was hard to define. Sweet Pea thought of how he should have told her, about how he should have told her months ago. About how angry he was. About all of this. About how much he missed her already. About how scared he was.

He said none of this. This worm didn't deserve that. Instead, Sweet Pea continued eating. The sooner he finished, the sooner they'd be back on the road.

XX

Betty was herded into a large storage facility. One of those abandoned factory type places, with questionable machinery everywhere, though it didn't look like much of it had been touched since the mid 90s.

She was handcuffed in a line with the other girls from her truck. They were all in various states of distress and somewhere through the five stages of grief. Betty hadn't even touched that yet. She couldn't.

The first thing that hit her was the realization that her truck wasn't the only truck. Women in lines were pouring in from every direction and the reality of how many were captured was staggering. It was enough to make Betty vomit in her mouth a little.

She swallowed it back down.

They really weren't being too picky. Young, old, able-bodied, frail, dark, light...any woman from miles, it seemed like they'd snatched up. There were a few notable girls that were still snarling and fighting with everything they had, but most seemed depressedly resigned to this.

Betty was taking everything in.

She was counting guards. She was mapping exits and pathways. She was cataloging what sort of guns was on the men. Betty was scanning the room and taking each moment in like a gigabyte of data, filing it away neatly in her mind. She wasn't making a fuss- no reason to make herself known right now- but she was not going to let her guard down. Nor was she ready to accept this fucked up reality.

Bambi was still whimpering softly in line next to Betty, shaking so hard that Betty was sure she was going to spontaneously combust. She wanted to say 'hey, it's going to be okay', but honestly...Betty couldn't promise that.

She'd dealt with really sick people her entire life. The sort of people that go on to kill their sons or townspeople. She was raised by killers. You sneeze in Riverdale and you hit a killer. Therefore, Betty knew full well as she stared into the eyes of these men that they were no one to take lightly.

What had they called themselves? Predators?

It was apt.

They were savages.

When it seemed like all the catches were lined up, Betty was jostled into a very long chain that stretched the entire length of the manufacturing floor. She guesstimated there were close to 100 women, and maybe 50 guards. Which were 150 more people alive than she'd previously thought. If they were pulling in catches of 100 near every day...well, people were a lot more prepared for the apocalypse than Betty had thought.

Either that, or this was just the weekly 'bring in yer woman' week, but even 100 women per week? It was something to mull over.

And somehow, her and Sweet Pea had ignored them all up until now.

Her heart clenched hard. She thought of him for just a second before she locked away his image. If she let herself get too weepy, too sad she'd never accomplished her escape.

Compartmentalize. She was good at that, wasn't she?

"Listen up, sluts!" A guy who radiated power walked to the floor, quieting the sobbing girls by shooting one bullet into the sky. Betty knew his type immediately. He got off on power, making people feel fear. He probably couldn't finish in bed unless he felt in control. He inspired loyalty by fear, not by his charisma. His alphaness was just waiting to be taken over by someone killing him.

Betty had her money on second-in-command from the way he looked at the Alpha.

"You have been picked by The Predators. You get something out of your sorry, pathetic lives, thanks to us! We're going to be going around and categorizing you now. Unfortunately, many of you, just isn't worth much. Not pretty, at least, because that's what matters. There are still jobs to do and we sure as hell ain't doing them," He said, looking back at the boys who all laughed along with him, like he'd just cracked a hilarious joke, "You can look forward to hard manual labor, and maybe if you play your cards right, bump up in a few years. The second category are where most of you will go. Pretty enough, but nothing special. A specimen with enough shit to grab some barter on the market. You'll be sold to the highest bidder, and then after that, you're not our problem anymore. Third category is for you truly lucky ones in life. If you get chosen for our higher echelon group, you get to be a pet for one of our men. This is the life of luxury, girls. If you wanna do something, hope you've got the right stuff to get there."

Bambie was still quaking beside Betty.

"I hope I get that group. The third. I hear it's…" She trailed off, unable to finish her thought.

Yeah, Betty would kill before she was placed anywhere.

They started at one end of the line. A group of about five of the 'upper-house' men went girl by girl, examining her from all angles, before sending her to one of three groups. Betty realized with a mounting sense of horror that they were forcing the girls to take everything off except bras and underwear.

Which meant that if Betty wanted that bobby pin from her shoe? Yeah, that was going to be taken.

It would be too obvious to lean down and grab it, someone would surely notice.

She needed a way to get that bobby-pin.

A girl two away from being sorted tried to get away. She started making a fuss, screaming and tugging on her chains. Immediately, one of the enforcers came over and slapped her hard across the face, hard enough to cut her cheeks open.

Betty shouldn't have been surprised that a group that liked to kidnap women was not above also hitting them.

But that...that gave her an idea.

She took two seconds to inhale softly. Draw in her courage, prepare herself. She told herself that if she wanted any chance of survival, she needed to keep that bobby-pin with her. A bobby-pin could do a great many things in a pinch and she was not in a position to be losing items right now.

Slowly, slowly, she toed the bobby-pin to the top of her foot, using weird ankle movements to transfer it up her combat boots until it was a hair away from peeking out.

She was ready.

"Hey," Betty called, finding her voice, "You."

She was near the end of the line. The men were still focusing on girls way at the other end. Betty set her sights on a guard that was staring down the girls menacingly. He startled, as though shocked anyone would have the audacity to talk to him.

"I bet you were a virgin before this, hmm?" Betty began. Around her, girls started to whisper and hiss in horror at her tone and accusation, "I bet the only way you've been able to feel pussy is because of the world ending. Had it not, you would have gone your whole life jerking off to anime girls, right?"

"Shut your mouth, whore." He threatened, stalking up to her, "I...you…" He was practically purple with rage.

"And, even now, these girls don't actually like you. You're a rapist, so," Betty said, continuing, though she was freaking out inside, "How does it feel to be a vile human being, someone that your own mother probably wishes she smothered at birth?"

The first hit came for her face. She was prepared for that, but it still really hurt. It was like knowing you were walking outside in below-freezing temperatures. You can hype your mind up for it, but that first moment of contact is still awful.

The second hit came for exactly where she wanted. Her stomach.

As she was doubled over in pain, gasping as she tried to regain her breath, her fingers quickly slid into her boot.

"How do you like that? Huh?" He said, pulling Betty up just as she palmed the bobby-pin into her sweaty hands.

He gave her one final hit across her face. When he looked into her eyes and saw fear, it was real. Betty was under no illusion that he was as pathetic as she might taunt him to be. A coward and an asshole, yes, but an unchained one. There were no repercussions in this world. He could do awful things to her. He might still.

"What the fuck is up with you, girl?" Nala demanded.

"Just confirming a theory," Betty hissed back, feeling around her lips to make sure there were no broken teeth. She was probably going to have a black and blue face.

God, she hoped that was worth it.

By the time the group reached her (sending Olaf to manual labor and Nala to the 'premiere' group), Betty was hurting all over.

She let them strip her down. She stood, unflinching, as their eyes roamed over her body.

She thought of Sweet Pea.

"Second," One guy said, jerking a finger. She couldn't even be offended she wasn't fit for the 'premier' group. Thank god, really. More chances for escape, if she just had to overcome one guy who 'bid' on her.

"Wait!" One of the guards from the truck broke away, "This one's given us quite a bit of trouble. And," He glanced back at Betty, "She claims her father's the Black Hood. Dunno, might be worth it for the premiere group?"

"I'd love a crack at her," The guard Betty had taunted added.

The Alpha examined Betty for a second. When Betty did not back down, he smiled something so evil and so void of any goddess, it sent a shiver down her spine.

"Sure. Third group. We'll break her yet."

And that was that. Betty was unchained to be transferred and then re-chained to the smallest group.

Bambi was sent to the second group, where she broke into uncontrollable sobs once again. Betty tried to not let it get to her. She would get them out before she was sold off, she promised herself.

It was only another half-hour before everyone was sorted. Betty realized there must be fires blazing somewhere because, despite their skimpy coverings, she wasn't particularly cold. A little chilly, but overall still acceptably warm, and it was the middle of winter.

As the three groups were taken their separate ways, Betty was corralled over to a long hall-way with rooms that had been made into cages. Each cage was pretty small, about the size of a half-bath. And there were just rows of it.

"This is Purgatory. Top-tier predators pick every month, and until then, you'll stay here. If you get picked over three times, it's back to the auction." One of the guards spoke, waving his hand like he was introducing them to a tropical paradise.

He went about putting each girl in a cage. The cage had a bucket, a cot with a pillow and a blanket and little else.

Homey.

Betty was shoved and prodded into hers. She spat at the men, already trying to memorize locks. It seemed like it could be picked. She was confident she could escape.

As soon as all the girls were locked up, the men left, locking the main doors to the hall.

Whispers started to circulate wildly, though there was a general idea of despair that hung heavily over everyone's head.

"Betty! Betty!"

Betty snapped her head up. Who was calling her name?

She wrapped the blanket around her like a shawl, going to the bars of the cage door. The voice was strikingly familiar.

God, where had she heard that voice before?

"Betty! Oh, wow, it is you...fuck…"

As soon as she heard the high-pitched voice swear, she knew. It was a voice she'd only heard a handful of times, mostly via the phone, twice on FaceTime. It was the voice of someone she'd chastised for swearing before.

Bile rose in her throat as she matched a face and a name to the quivering tone. She shook her head frantically, hoping that it wasn't.

"The cage...across the way! To the right!" The voice helped guide her eyes. She caught the twin-braids and her stomach lurched.

"Jellybean," She murmured, staring at the face of Jughead's younger sister, "What are you doing here?"

XXxxXX

Sweet Pea sat on the edge of the van, fingers reddened with blood. He stared out into the infinite forests around him, a sense of darkness curling around him with such a precision that he felt helplessness he'd never experienced before.

The knife between his fingers clattered to the forest floor.

Nick was dead.

It was to have been expected. He was dragging around a guy that likely had severe internal bleeding from the knife in his eye, but that didn't mean Sweet Pea hadn't hoped…

It had been a bad death. No glory, nothing easy. He'd gone clawing and whimpering, fighting against the demons dragging him down. He'd been sobbing and aware and pleading with some unseen figure to spare him, as though he'd done anything to deserve such kindness.

When he went, it was with a violent shudder before his body lay supine.

Sweet Pea had kicked a tree and then raided his body for anything useful.

He'd found a wallet.

Nick was actually a Chad, but the names seemed pretty synonymous to Sweet Pea.

Then, knowing what was going to happen, Sweet Pea had dug a knife into Nick's brain, making sure that he wasn't coming back.

His one sure-fire lead was gone.

He didn't even deserve a funeral, hardly deserved the place-marker where he'd died.

"Betty, god," He whimpered, lying back into the bed of the truck, "Hold on, please."

He still had the directions. He had weapons in the back of his car, plus the few he'd spent last night making. Wooden spikes sharpened to a point weren't fantastic weapons, but he could still impale someone well enough. And, there was the scalpel now free from Nick's eye. Plus, he still had his gun (eight bullets), a knife, and the crowbar.

His chances could be far worse.

And, hell, he could run a few over with the van. Yeah, it would be a time and a half to clean guts out of the undercarriage, but it would be worth it.

The directions were crumpled in his hand on a piece of paper. Not even paper, it was a crappy napkin drawing from a diner somewhere back in Ohio. He remembered that he and Betty had raided it and had pie. It seemed like lifetimes ago.

Why couldn't they just stay in their bubble?

Maybe, if they hadn't needed to have gone out for Sweet Pea's sake, they'd be having sex by a fire right now. They'd be laughing. They'd be talking about their feelings. They could be doing anything but this.

Life sucked sometimes.

He set the napkin next to him and drove, preparing himself for a fight of his life.

And then...he found…

Nothing.

The directions led him to a field. An empty field, mind you, with only one tiny tower. Nothing big enough for the kind of operations that the Predators did.

Rage and realization flooded him all at once.

He was a fucking idiot, wasn't he? Nick was never going to draw a nice little treasure-map right to the hide-out. He knew he was dying and he knew they wouldn't get there. He wasn't going to sell his skin.

Sweet Pea felt his knees quiver as he collapsed in the field, laying down on the dirt.

Betty could be dead by now. Nick could have driven them in the entirely wrong direction. He could spend the rest of his life searching and never quite catch up with her again.

And, his life may not be too long.

He was feeling faint and woozy. He really hadn't properly attended to any of his wounds and it had been about eight hours in total. These were things a doctor should see, but surprisingly they were fresh out of those.

He hadn't eaten much else, other than that squirrel. Even that hadn't been much.

When he stood, his vision blurred at the edges.

He wasn't going to give up, not now. Not yet. If what Nick claimed was true (and, well, some of it had to be, right?) chances are that Betty would be sold at auction or kept for the upper members. The auction was three days away. He still had time to find her.

There had to be other people who knew where the Predators were, right? Nick had mentioned some groups paid a fee to keep their women. Gave them other things. Didn't rock the boat, per se. Paid them a tax, if you will.

He just had to find one of those groups.

Sweet Pea wasn't a fantastic tracker, but FP had been. He tried to pull forth his sage mentor (he'd been doing it a lot lately) and think of FP showing him how he tracked down a deer. People had to be easier, huh? They were a lot louder and less finessed.

It took him about two hours. He picked up a track, back behind where Nick's body was. There was already a wolf gnawing at him, a scraggly animal whose ribs could be seen. At least Nick was going toward something useful now.

Sweet Pea treads carefully, not wanting to make any sudden movements. He didn't know if these people were good or bad or in between. He was sure he hadn't stumbled upon the Predators, because it would be a bigger production, right?

In a clearing, there were maybe thirty people, all gathered around a fire. Safety in numbers. Some seemed like decent people, though it was hard to tell from this far away.

He felt his vision fading.

He was about to pass out, fuck!

He stepped on a twig and immediately, half the people in the clearing went on defensive mode.

Okay, time to make himself known before he got an arrow through his forehead.

He stumbled out into the clearing, trying to dislodge his gun from his holster, as well as his crowbar.

"I come in peace," He slurred, "Weapons gone...I'm just trying to find my…" He felt his feet betray him, twisting him and causing him to trip as he walked. His forehead pounded as blackness rose over his eyes, "My...wife…"

He hoped, as he fell, someone caught him before he hit the ground.

XXxxXX

Betty sat on the very edge of the cell, her legs curled around her and her arms resting on the bars. Now that the guards were gone, there was light whispering all through the cell-block. By her estimation, there were about thirty women here. She'd heard someone else say that the guards were so arrogant that they didn't care if the woman talked...they believed that they wouldn't dare try to figure out an escape plan.

Most of the captured women were so beaten and abused, this was likely true.

Betty stared with a deep-set frown at Jellybean. She'd hardly thought about the girl. Usually, the thoughts of the young teen only came when she was thinking of Jughead, and those days were far past now. She'd never met her, but they'd Skyped or FaceTimed enough, plus Betty used to be her friend on Facebook. Yes, it was weird to be staring at someone who resembled her ex so strongly and have a weird sense of knowing someone without ever having truly met them.

Betty wished they hadn't. Betty wished Jellybean wasn't here too.

"I got caught like two days after the last picking," Jellybean explained, leaning against the side of the cell, "It's five days until the next one. I've been here for nearly a month. They feed you twice a day...it's pretty decent, to be honest. I mean, we're the cream of the crop, apparently. They have to keep us looking non-skeletal."

Jellybean was in moderately fine shape for being captured for so long. Grimey and dirty, sure, but not underfed.

"You're like thirteen," Betty whispered in horror, her throat closing.

"There was a girl here who was eleven," Jellybean said in a dark sort of seriousness, "Until she killed herself. There are some really sick dudes out there. That's how they've won."

Betty tried to hold back her revulsion because otherwise, her vomit would sit with her in this cage.

"Is Jughead with you?" Her question was so soft that it broke Betty's heart.

"No. I thought he was with you, honestly, if he were…" She bit off what she was going to say, "Him and FP, we uh, we got separated. They went looking for you and your mom. I haven't seen either since."

"What day did Riverdale turn?" Jellybean asked.

"Like, May 11th." Betty said 'like' as though she were unsure, but to be truthful, it was a date she doubted she'd ever forget, "Last year."

"Mhh." Jellybean nodded hard, "You see, Arizona was already overrun by May 9th. We packed up our vacation early to try to get back to Riverdale or Toledo, but uh, well…" She looked down, "Yeah."

"Which means that by the time that they set out for you, you were long gone," Betty winced, sucking in a hard breath. It was a true fool's errand.

"Do you wish Jughead had stayed with you?"

"No, no!" Betty sent her the most comforting look she could manage, "I would have been furious had he chosen me over you. He really loved-loves- you." She tried to cover her tracks quickly, but Jellybean was staring at her hard.

She had the same look of determination that Jughead used to get. The same calculating eyes, the same pinch to her brow, the same tilt to her head. It was a look that told Betty he was furiously working behind his head on some riddle, and he often got to the bottom of it.

"Jughead's dead, isn't he?"

Betty debated telling her the truth for a second too long. Before she said anything, pained anguish flooded Jellybean's eyes as she came to terms with it.

"I'm sorry," Betty said, wiping the edges of her eyes, "I'm pretty sure he is. I mean, there's some good evidence that we found. I'm not sure about FP, but I think...I think Jug's dead."

It had been so long since she'd cried for Jughead, but telling his kid sister this fact, along with the present sureness in her stomach that curled and ate away her insides, caused her eyes to water without control.

Jellybean tried to keep it in. Her lip quivered and her whole face shook. It was a good twenty seconds before she sniffled, and then she just couldn't stop. A few girls in the cages around them gave her sympathetic looks, having heard the conversation. Plus, girls crying in there was not a foreign sound.

"Jellybean, frick, I'm so...sorry."

Betty meant it.

She stayed silent as she let Jellybean cry it out, watching the girl's shoulders shudder and the ground wet underneath her.

Soon, she dried her tears.

"Mom's dead too," Jellybean whimpered, "I'm sure of it. I saw it."

"God." Betty blinked at her, "God, I'm…" She couldn't even form words.

"I've had time to come to terms with it. It wasn't recent," Jellybean murmured, giving a sad smile, "You kept saying 'we'. You weren't alone, were you?"

Betty hesitated. She wondered how Jughead's sister would feel, hearing that she was with another guy. In love with someone else.

"Please," Jellybean asked, "Tell me something good. Or, was it not good?"

"No, it was very good," Betty was quick to assure, "The day that Riverdale got over-run...the day we woke up, he actually saved me…"

* * *

 **We're not out of the woods yet ;)**

 **When I was originally writing this, I wanted someone from their past to pop back up at the Predator's Lair. It was only later I remembered ALL the minor characters, like Cheryl's cheerleader followers, but I'd already thought of Jellybean. Unfortunately, once I had thought of her, as cruel as it was, I couldn't not have her appear. Poor JB :( But, it also starts to tie together some more information about what might have happened to Jughead.**

 **On another note, I've been voted in many categories for the Bughead Fanfiction Awards! I've been voted best Author for 'Other Couples' (probably mainly for writing these two) along with some other things, so if you like me, consider voting for me on the tumblr competition!**


	21. Track 20: The Four Horsemen

**So, at the start of this story, I was just getting off of a massive TWD obsession, and it wasn't just one zombie!AU fic I started but TWO, the other being a Bellarke/the 100 one (though it never really got published, still on the WIP backburner of my mental typewriter). Point being, I drafted two fics at the same time that I decided both took place in TWD universe, so that also meant that they were concurrently happening together too. We see this happen as some characters are introduced. If you don't watch The 100, you probably won't miss much, so no worries. If you do, you may see some familiar faces ;) I really wanted to throw in a character from TWD in here too to really merge the three, but I haven't watched in years and have no idea who would realistically be up in the Midwest so oh well.**

 **ALSO, also, I'm SOOO behind on Riverdale (last episode I caught was the Halloween one, so I'll probably wait till it hits Netflix) but apparently there were some SweetBetts vibes in the episode last night :D**

 **Thank you to my reviewers: Chloe0x0 and Ava!**

 **Ava: It is tough, but imagine how good the payoff will be!**

 **Song is The Four Horsemen by Metallica**

* * *

 _March 8th, 2019_

It had been a day and a half, by Betty's estimate, since they were put in here. Her goal was to get all of them out before the next pickings by the guards.

Most of her spare time was spent plotting. She talked to Jellybean a bit, along with the other girls closest to her own cell, but nothing was as imperative to Betty as figuring out the rotation of the guards or what sort of lock was on that main door.

Picking the lock on her own cell with the bobby-pin she kept hidden? Simple. Child's play. She was confident she could teach Jellybean how to do it, and she did.

Getting past that second door was the main objective. And, past that, securing weapons or something to protect herself. Either that or they would have to escape by night.

She knew she had a higher chance of escape if she was picked by a guard, however, there were some very big issues with waiting. One; she wouldn't know where Jellybean or the rest of the girls were. Since Jug was gone, she felt personally responsible for Jellybean and would die before she left her alone in this place. Two; it probably meant she'd have to sleep with whatever guard picked her and, well, she'd rather kill herself. Three; just too many variables.

She at least could count all the variables in this situation.

She was hoping to spring her release tonight.

She knew that a lot could go wrong. She had only the foggiest idea of where she was (Minnesota, probably. Jellybean had been captured in South Dakota), and it was the middle of winter. Food wasn't an issue, she wasn't starved yet, and Jellybean had been correct. The food was decent and twice a day.

Betty was sure enough of her skills to take to the forest with Jellybean and hide it out. In a perfect world, she could probably get a uniform of a guard or find where they took the rest of the women's clothes currently.

She ran through the scenario in her head close to 1000 times. There was nothing that was going to get in her way.

Food was usually brought by different guards every day. Maybe so that the guards could see their choices as they handed out plates, maybe so that no guard got too chummy and was fooled by one prisoner. They all had stun-guns and they were all quite a bit beefier than any singular girl. One-on-one, a girl probably didn't have a chance.

Betty was zoning in her cell, trying to figure out her chances of stealing a car when someone tapped her bars. She looked up, uninterested by the carrier, only piqued by the food on the platter.

Most just slid it through the bars.

"You. Yeah, talking to you, bitch."

Betty didn't reply, she just raised an eyebrow.

This guard was younger than a lot of them. While Betty had a good guess that most were between 20-25, this one seemed like he was probably writing college entrance essays when shit hit the fan and all.

He was bruised all over. His nose was bandaged like it had been broken and reset recently. He was glaring something nasty at Betty.

"Fuck, it is you."

"Do I know you?" Betty asked tiredly.

"You were the one we grabbed at the hospital in Wisconsin," He said. Betty felt something very dark grasp her heart. She saw Jellybean perk up from the other side of the way, staring with worry at the guard. Betty's mouth was filled with sawdust. She had a bad feeling where this was going, but she couldn't breathe.

"Heard you were askin' about your partner there," the guy continued, dropping Betty's plate unceremoniously. The food skeeted over the lip of the plate, all over the dusty floor, "Gave me a real headache. Killed my partner."

"You'd better hope to god-," Betty snarled, stalking up to the bars, but the guard laughed at her. It was such a violent, despairing sound that it stopped Betty in her tracks.

"An eye for an eye, I suppose," The kid raised his chin to show his adam's apple, "Dead men tell no tales," He whispered savagely, making a slicing motion across his throat.

Betty's heart stopped. She felt like screaming. She started to shake her head, sure he was lying, that he was just fucking with her.

Then, a glimmer of something right underneath his jacket caught her eye.

Sweet Pea's dog tags.

She felt like she was being stabbed. She felt like the world swam in front of it. This was worse than when she had found Jughead's hat, worse than when she had just missed Veronica and Archie, worse than finding out her father was the Black Hood.

 _Sweet Pea_ was dead.

Sweet Pea was _dead._

 _Sweet Pea was dead._

A rage, so uncontrollable and so unexpected, filled her. It attacked every inch of her sky, filling her mouth with blood as she bit down on her lip. Her whole body felt like it was attached to a live electric wire, and someone was pumping her through, torturing her.

Betty's fingers grasped out for his neck before she knew what she was doing and before he could jolt backward.

Her fist closed tightly around the chain, yanking the guard face-first into the bars. Her other hand grasped the chain tighter, making a garrote.

"You made a fucking mistake," She snarled, refusing to relent.

She wasn't sure what she intended to do in the first place. Scare him? But, as his face started to turn red, and then blueish, and then purple, she realized that her hands did not want to let go. As his air was cut off, his fingers tried to grasp for the stun-gun, but it all happened far too fast.

Betty wondered if this is how her father felt, watching the panic in someone's eyes as you brought about the end of their life? She wondered if he too felt this unending fury, or if there was just a sense of nothing when he had killed people.

She wondered if he derived the same sense of glee she felt as the light died from their visions. He had stopped moving. His eyes were like two twin mirrors, reflecting back the light of the hallway, but nothing from behind it.

Her hand was raw from where the chain from the dog tag dug into her palms.

With a bolt of realization, she let go.

The chain snapped free in her hand, Sweet Pea's tags suspended and clinking lightly, as the body of the guard fell to the ground in a heap.

The other girls began to whisper frantically.

"Keys! Keys, girl!" One was yelling. It took Betty a good few seconds to register any voices.

She stared at the man she'd just killed, her first, and felt her breakfast come back up.

"Betty!" Jellybean said, her singular voice snapping her out of her horror, "Get his keys! His gun!"

Betty stuffed the dog tags down her bra, re-aligning herself with her new escape plan.

There was a wild, unbridled excitement flurrying around the cages. Betty dove for her bobby pin, unlocking her own cage. She shoved the body over, refusing to look at his face, as she patted down his body for weapons and for the keys to everyone's cage. There wasn't nearly enough time to bobby-pin everyone out.

The noise couldn't have gone unnoticed. Betty had only managed to find his keys, and throw them to Jellybean, by the time that the door to the entrance slammed open. She hadn't managed to dredge his gun up yet.

"What the fuc-," One of the other guards said, taking in the scene with wide-eyes.

The cages were silent.

"She killed him!" One of the girls near the front whispered in a crooning, teacher's pet voice. Betty had never liked her anyway, mentally naming her 'Gothel' in her mind. A few girls sent her nasty looks, some looked guilty down, and some of the other girls were crying again.

There were four guards. One snatched the keys out of Jellybean's hand, slamming her fingers between the grates hard. As she yelped, Betty stood.

"Don't touch her!" She said, coming face-to-face with the guard. He took one look at Betty and slammed her face with the back of his gun. Betty stumbled, and one of the other guards grasped her arm, his fingernails digging so deep into her skin that he drew blood.

"Drew's dead," The third gasped, feeling for a pulse, "She fucking killed him!" The situation was dawning on all of them, and the four men looked at Betty with various levels of horror and deadly desires.

"He was only sixteen!"

"And I'm only seventeen, and she's only thirteen! You're all sickos," Betty replied, refusing to shut up, "You do bad things, you get shitty rewards!"

"Shut up!" One of the guards grabbed her by her hair, dragging her back into her cell. He was trying to be as savage as possible. He threw her hard and her head connected with the metal edge of the uncomfortable bed.

She saw blood on the edge of her vision.

Another guard kicked her stomach. Then again. And again.

She heard the clatter as her bucket was overturned, spilling into the cell.

"Fuck, man! What do we do? Alpha isn't back until the pickings."

"We should kill 'er! Execute her! She killed Drew!"

"Alpha would be furious if we did it without his consent. He might have other plans."

"We'll leave her, then," One said in a 'listen to me' sort of voice, "We'll leave her for Alpha's sentence. I hope he guts her."

XXxxXX

 _March 10th, 2 019_

Sweet Pea regained his vision one by one.

First was the smell. It was the smell of antiseptics that he thought woke him, something clean and white and reminding him of awful places. Beyond that was something muskier, something woodsy. Like someone had plopped a forest of trees in a hospital.

The second was the taste. The back of his throat tasted exactly what he thought possum in a blender might be, and yes, it was as bad as it sounded. He realized how dry his throat also was, and how he ached for water so badly he thought he might vomit.

The third was sound. There were people above him, talking.

"We'll see if he wakes soon...if not...I dunno…"

"He's lucky to be alive."

A pause. The same person. Female, he thinks, "He's made of stronger stuff, I'd guess."

"Think we can trust him?" The first voice was a man.

"Hard to say. We'll see when he wakes up. He's carrying a lot of weapons."

The fourth thing that came to him was feeling. He acutely was aware of how much everything aches around him. More than that, he was just lethargic, in a sort of fashion that was like he'd had a rager and woke up half-way curled over a couch. It was like something was tying his limbs down and he couldn't find a way to move them, as hard and as desperately as he was trying.

Last was his sight.

It was fuzzy around the edges. He blinked rapidly a few times, hearing the same fuss above him as he began to wake, opening his mouth to speak up.

"Where...wha…" He was having a difficult time recalling why he'd be here and not in his house.

"Oh, good, you're coming to," The first voice said, though it did not sound quite as cheerful as his tone may indicate.

Sweet Pea was helped into a sitting position by someone. He slouched forward a bit, his head still woozy, a glass of what appeared to be water was pushed into his hands. His good sense was so far wacked out of focus that he drank it without considering any consequences. Though, to be fair, they probably could have killed him before if they so wanted. It would be a lot of effort to wait for him to wake and then to kill him.

It tasted heavenly. He drank the whole thing and then two more glasses, as someone kept replacing them.

He got a good look at his rescuers for the first time.

He was inside some torn-down abandoned hut. Something he was deeply familiar with at this end of the world bullshit. There were two adults staring at him with a piercing, calculating gaze. The woman who had given him the water had dark skin, a shaved head, and untrustworthy eyes. The man was a little less severe, with long dreadlocks and a beard that made him look exactly how Sweet Pea imagined Bigfoot might look. They both had strange tattoos curling around their eyes, something that Sweet Pea was instantly curious about.

He had his own tattoo, of course, so he wondered if it was indicative of some sort of gang? He hadn't brought his serpent jacket with him, neither had Betty-

Fuck.

"How long have I been here?" Sweet Pea asked, frantically trying to hop off the table, "I need to...do you know where...there's this group." His words were all falling out in no discernible order, making it impossible to convey what he was trying to ask. His heart thumped, his chest constricted, and his heart just fucking hurt.

"Son, son," The man said, grasping him, "Calm down."

"Calm down? I can't just...how long have I been out? Two, three hours?" Sweet Pea asked, peering outside.

"You arrived in the camp with a slit open neck, along with other wounds," The woman said, her arms crossed as she stared him down, "It hasn't been easy."

"What do you mean?"

"We've kept you in a...medical coma for the past few days. Three." The man confirmed, looking back at the woman, "We thought you might die otherwise."

"Three, err, four days…"

Sweet Pea felt ill again. He shook his head, feet falling out from under him. He felt actually sick again and turned to vomit, though only bile came up his throat.

"No, no...no…" He grasped his hair, "She could be gone by now…"

Betty could have been sold off hours ago and he'd never find her again. He didn't make it in time.

The man looked wholly uncomfortable to see Sweet Pea crying whereas the woman's expression softened just a bit.

They had to keep records, though, right? To know who was someone they could sell to, or get money from? He doubted that no one in that entire group would be clueless about where she'd gone, especially if it was recent.

It was okay. He could still find her.

He grasped the edge of the bed, forcing his unstable feet to stand.

"I need to go."

"Woah, okay, let's wait for a second," The man said, "You're hardly healed."  
"Don't care."

"More than that, we have some questions," The woman said in a much more imposing tone, "You cannot just expect us to heal you and then have you walk out of here?"

Sweet Pea scowled, glaring as hard as he could at her.

"Fine. Ask," He said, crossing his arms and sitting on his bed, "If it helps me leave faster."

"Let's start with some introductions. You are?"

"Sweet Pea. Don't ask about any other name because I probably won't tell you."

"Right. Sweet Pea," The man said, "I'm Nyko. I'm the doctor of the group. I've seen some shit since the start of this, but you…" he waved a hand at Sweet Pea, "Surprised you survived."

"I'm Indra, our current leader." The woman spoke over Nyko, formalities or small talk not her speed, "You came with a lot of weapons on you, Sweet Pea." When she spoke his name, it sounded like a slur.

"Got to protect myself in this day and age. With walkers and other assholes around. Plus, I'm looking for a group. The Predators."

Nyko looked at Indra, swinging his gaze around. Indra just tilted her head.

"You said as you fainted you were looking for your...wife?"

"She was taken. By them. That's why I need to go. Before she's…" He swallowed.

"You'll be killed," Nyko scoffed.

"They tried once. Didn't work." Sweet Pea ran a finger along the gauze at his throat.

"A fluke, surely," Indra's voice was cool.

"As you said," Sweet Pea said, looking at her with a saccharine smile, "I'm made of stronger stuff. They won't get closer to this again."

"Where do you come from?" Nyko asked, trying to reign the interrogation back.

Sweet Pea looked at him, "Wiscon...sin…" He said without thinking, his words dying off a bit as he realized how easily the answer came, "I mean, to say, that's where I'm...I was born and raised around New York."

"You're a long way from home then."

Sweet Pea thought of the bodies piled up between here and the East Coast. He thought of his brothers, laying out with their serpent jackets to the skies, the entirety of the Whyte Wyrm a mausoleum. He thought of Fangs and Toni for the first time in fucking ages and something just ached inside of him.

"Yeah, well, it's all fucked out there," He muttered quietly.

"That seems to be the general consensus." Nyko agreed, "Nowhere is safe."

"Look," Sweet Pea swallowed, despite the slight twinge of pain in his throat, "I get why you're wary of me. I probably look like the poster child for a group like the Predators. But I'm not. I just want to find Betty and go home. I don't want to join them, I don't want to kill any other humans that are being actual decent people, I don't want to linger any longer than I have to. You can't agree with what they're doing, can you?"

Nyko and Indra shared a glance. Nyko looked ready to speak when Indra raised a sharp hand, stopping him.

"We will not hold anyone who does not wish to be held. We are not The Predators. We've run low on weapons of late. In exchange for saving your life, we will take most of your weapons. A worthy trade."

"Fine," Sweet Pea bit out, pleased they weren't expecting some sort of labor trade, "Leave me with my bat though. I'm sentimental and quite attached to it."

"Not a gun?"

"I'm better up close and personal," Sweet Pea growled, cracking his knuckles.

"I'm still concerned," Nyko said, "It's already nearly dawn. Even if you want to attack them, even you must know it would be foolish to do so during the day. Stay here and let me make sure you won't bleed out half-way there?"

Sweet Pea glanced outside, frustrating gnawing in him.

Nyko was correct, despite it all.

"Fuck. Fine."

XXxxXX

Sweet Pea spent most of the day holed up in the medicine hut. He caught glimpses of their group crisscrossing through and counted their numbers to nearly 200. It was incredible, all things considered. Indra left and only returned to hand him off his bat, which he pressed to his chest like it was his life-line. Nyko kept an eye on Sweet Pea as he worked on others and eventually, around three, Sweet Pea was kicked out to make room for a woman going into labor.

"Food is being served. You might want to go find some of that," Nyko said, pushing Sweet Pea out into the center of the camp.

For a second, Sweet Pea stood unsure of his motions, his fingers tracing the bandage that was applied much more expertly to his neck. It intersected his serpent tattoo. Sweet Pea wondered how horribly mangled the ink would be now. He was not as sad as he thought he would be to lose that, as it was a part of his old life.

He was glad to see that his anti-rabies medicine was allowed to stay with him and dosed himself up, figuring it was about time. If Betty could see him now, he thought with a wry smile.

It was easy to find the food hut. People were lining up, chatting with each other. One thing that Sweet Pea noticed was that the camp was predominantly male. For every one female, there were at least 20 males. Sweet Pea did not think it was entirely natural selection, no, there was some other weird situation going on.

He was given a bowl of oats and a piece of meat, some venison by the smell of it. The people handing it out did not seem put-off that he was joining the line though he was sure most were aware of his presence. He did know how to make an entrance.

He found a spot in the shade, plopping down and using his fingers to scoop the meal into his mouth.

A shadow crossed his vision.

"You're looking for the Predators."

He glanced up, shielding his eyes from the light to see a girl about his age standing in front of him. She wore a deep frown and had piercing brown eyes, ones that seemed to swim with the fury of a raging ocean. She had a leather top on along with long, nearly black pin-straight hair.

"Uhm, yeah?"

She sat beside him, a bowl in her hands, shaking her head.

"I've been told it's a bad idea," Sweet Pea said, "So, you don't have to reiterate it."

"Cowards," The girl spat. The venom in her tone shocked Sweet Pea. He frowned, glancing at her again, "Surely, you've noticed how few females are left in the camp?"

"Well, yes."

"The Predators came through two months ago and took most of them. That's why we're here and we haven't moved on. That's why I'm not with my brother and his group...but I can't leave because my friends were taken too." She gritted her teeth, "And we're supposed to be warriors. I joined this group to learn how to fight but fuck, they won't do a damn thing."

"Really?" Sweet Pea said, blinking, "This group of assholes steals most of their women and they just...let it happen?"

"Indra's daughter was taken," The girl said, "And they were warned that if they attacked, she'd be killed." The girl gave a rickety laugh, "I never thought Indra would be the type to sacrifice one for the many, but hell…"

"I'm sorry," Sweet Pea said sincerely, "It's a shit position to be in."

"But we're just sitting here, don't nothing," The girl threw her hands out, "Waiting for something worse to happen! Or waiting for...I don't know what, but it's infuriating!" She snapped her head sharply to Sweet Pea, "You're going to find them, aren't you?"

"I gotta."

The girl nodded, her face growing stony with a resolution, "I'm coming too. I'll fucking liberate it myself if they won't."

"Won't you...get in trouble?" Sweet Pea asked, brow furrowed.

"I'm not part of their group, not really," She said, her voice dropping with a nearly wistful hint, "I've never belonged anywhere, but it's finally working out, I guess. I have a lot of rage inside of me. I'd love the chance to kill a few neckbeards and try to work it through. Better than therapy."

"Huh," Sweet Pea said, "Welcome to the club. Rage and ruin? Check."

This brought out a small, fleeting smile.

"I'll find you tonight. I know there are others who are frustrated, so we might not be alone." She said, standing, leaving her portion next to him, "You'll need the strength."

"Wait," Sweet Pea said, "I'm Sweets. I haven't caught your name."

The girl turned, as though musing on whether to tell him or not. Finally, she dipped her head as she acquiesced, "Octavia Blake."

XXxxXX

 _March 11th, 2019_

Sweet Pea was woken with a hand covering his mouth. He jumped until Octavia motioned to keep quiet, tilting her head toward Nyko, still snoring. He knew that they wouldn't let him go so easily, made even clear when Nyko suggested he sleep one more night. Sweet Pea, with the knowledge he wouldn't be on his mission alone anymore, managed to catch a couple of hours. He had no reason to think Octavia was lying. Even more than that, he remembered the fire in her eyes. It matched how he felt in his heart.

There were two others waiting outside.

"What is this, a rescue mission or a boy-band?" Sweet Pea sneered, not quite the infantry he'd been hoping for.

"Most are afraid that Gaia will be killed," Octavia said, "or they just are tired of fighting. Fighting the undead, fighting each other, fighting to survive."

"But you?" Sweet Pea gleaned.

"I don't know what I'll do without the fight," Octavia said plainly, "Sweets, meet Illian and Brad. Brad's a doctor, and all things considered, we're probably lucky." She switched gears so fast that Sweet Pea hardly had time to consider that very loaded statement.

"Yeah, I seem to run into wounds quite often…" He echoed quietly.

"We thought that, though you seem attached to that bat, you might like having this back for the raid," Brad said without preamble, handing-off a gun to Sweet Pea. It was one of his ones he'd given up and he ran his fingers over the machinery, feeling a smidgen better with more weapons in his hands.

Octavia led them behind the medicine hut where there was a path through the brambles, away from the eyes of the night watch. They walked in silence for a good half-an-hour, or until all were sure that they were far enough away.

"The Predators are about a four-hour walk from here," Octavia said, "And there's usually about 200 guards."

"50 per?" Sweet Pea joked, trying to lighten the mood and his own thumping heart, "Easy, eh?"

"My goal is at least 75," Octavia said without any hint of humor, "One for each girl taken."

She took the lead. Sweet Pea quickly learned that Brad had no intention to make friends and gave stoic one-word answers. He ended up falling next to Illian, who seemed the most pleasant to talk to. They chatted a bit about the group and all, but soon, it was hard for Sweet Pea not to be curious about the girl who led them so confidently through the forest.

"She's from a group in Chicago. She had to kill her boyfriend after he was infected and she just kept getting into fights with her brother, the leader of the group, back up there. We ended up splitting ways and she chose to be with us. We're all from a Military School, but she's…" Illian gave a cough, "She's something else. She has a lot of untapped rage and probably should see a therapist but we're a bit fresh out." Illian shrugged, "She misses her brother, but she feels tied to this cause, or so she says. I'm not sure she's ready to face him yet."

"I never had to deal with the whole sibling shit," Sweet Pea said, "but I was going to go after these jerks by myself, so I'm glad she's here. And you both too."

"I'm just tired of feeling useless." Illian said frankly, "What's your story?"

Sweet Pea blew out, coughing a bit as some cool air scratched his throat, "Shit, man. I don't even know where to begin. Grew up on the wrong side of town, joined a gang when I was like nine, got tatted when I was like twelve...ended up trying to get revenge when this whole apocalypse happened, accidentally saved a girl I was pretty sure I hated instead, ended up traveling with her, fell in love and then…" He swallowed, "I never properly got to say it."

"I thought you said she was your wife?"

Sweet Pea winced at his own lie, "I love her. She's it for me. She feels like that, though we never...talked about...it's probably stupid," he admitted after a long moment, his cheeks flushing, "And seems creepy maybe. But fuck, it's true. I'd die for her. I'd do anything for her."

"I think it's sweet," Illian said after a long moment, one where Sweet Pea was sure he was being judged horribly, "I'd like to love someone with such a sureness. I really hope we can save her. Honest."

There was a pause, one in which Sweet Pea had nothing else to say, but Illian still looked troubled.

"What would you do," He began quietly, "If we get there and she's dead or been sold off?"

"Been sold off, I'll hunt her down. Killed?" Sweet Pea tilted his head, "Make them suffer. And then I'd…" he trailed off, realizing he was completely unsure of what his next steps would be. The idea of living without Betty seemed unrealistic like there simply wasn't anything after that. It was as though the plans had been wiped away, leaving a blank and terrifying canvas.

"So I thought," Illian said, as though Sweet Pea's answer had illuminated more than he knew, "I hope she's still alive. Fucking lord knows we don't need two Octavia's around. She's ruthless, but she has no care for her own self-safety. Ever since Lincoln…" He quieted, "Anyway…"

"We're here," Octavia's voice was quiet, but it cut through with a certainty that had Sweet Pea frozen in his half-step. Sweet Pea hadn't realized they'd been walking for so long, but as he looked at the sky, the moon was beginning to dip below the tree-line in a farewell wave. Octavia made a motion right through the scrub. Sweet Pea pushed back a branch to reveal a large compound with fences and men with guns on the lookout. He was already making battle plans in his mind, already hiking his gun up, knowing that they could probably manage to take the guards out all at once and-,

"Wait."

"Why?" Sweet Pea demanded.

Octavia moved his head to an empty parking spot.

"See how there's not a car there? That's where Alpha goes. The leader. If we don't take him, and his betas out, the entire group doesn't come down."

"But-," Sweet Pea gnashed his teeth, "We walked all this way and-,"

"What day is it, Illian?" Octavia questioned, switching her attention, "Today, this morning."

"Uhm, the 11th?"

Octavia made a hum in the back of her throat, "He'll be back this morning. He will. If your partner was chosen for the premiere group, she'll still be here. If not…" She bit her lip, not a sign of anxiety, but that she was holding back something, "Either way, we can't attack until he arrives."

The group split up a mile or so back in the woods; far enough away to avoid detection, close enough to be able to see the empty parking lot.

Illian muttered something about finding berries and Brad found a tree to promptly doze against, leaving Octavia sitting with Sweet Pea. For a bit he watched her. Her eyes traced the guard rotation before they even moved and he saw that her gaze flickered between all the doors they could see, two that Sweet Pea himself would have missed had he not been so curiously watching her.

It showed a deeper understanding of this place than a once-or-twice visit. He got the acute feeling that Octavia spent most of her nights here, obsessively cataloging the guards, the doors, the weapons. He doubted she would have waited long to attack even if he hadn't shown up, but it was fortuitous that he did.

Brad was prickly and seemed entirely determined to stay solitary, Illian was nice in the sort of way that a puppy-dog was, but Sweet Pea felt a kinship with Octavia. He saw himself reflected back in her, like a terrifying mirror. It was his doppelganger of emotion because he doubted he'd act much differently from her if Betty truly was dead. It was a warning too, one he knew he should heed, but he found it impossible to imagine going any other way. He thought that Octavia would have been the sort to join the Serpents if she'd been in Riverdale and they would have welcomed her.

"Tell me about your home," Octavia said after far too long of allowing herself to match the motions of the guards, "Please."

"What do you want to know?"

"I'm unsure. Before this, I'd never been outside of Chicago. I guess New York must be pretty similar."

"If you live in the city, sure. I lived middle of fucking nowhere. The only thing of note was the Black Hood."

Octavia frowned, tilting her head, "River...moor? Something like that? My brother was obsessed with that case."

"Yeah, so was the entire world. I was just waiting for a new Netflix special. Riverdale," He corrected. He was curious about this brother that kept being brought up but he felt like she wouldn't give any more information than what she sprinkled into their conversation, "I mean, it has what every town has. Drugs, drinking, crazy teens…" He made a noise in the back of his throat, "It wasn't perfect, but it was home."

"More," Octavia asked, and thought it sounded like a command, there was a more wistful tone, "Your high school, the downtown, what you did on the weekends. I'm just curious."

So he did. Sweet Pea felt a dull ache when discussing it, but it was nice to tell his stories to someone else. Betty knew most of them and he wasn't meeting newcomers very often, as it was. At least, not ones that weren't trying to kill or kidnap him. Octavia stayed intrigued, letting soft grins lose and quiet chuckles. Sweet Pea used his hands to gesticulate, explaining the North Side, the South Side and everything in between.

"Guys," Brad said, who must have woken up at some point during the stretched hours they sat in the woods, "Car's back."

Sweet Pea shielded his eyes against the sun. He estimated it was nearly 10 AM. He wondered what Octavia's camp thought of them gone. Would they send people to collect them or assume they all perished?

"That's it," Octavia confirmed, standing and brushing the crumbling dirt from her pants. She took a knife out of her pocket, looked at it, and handed it to Sweet Pea. Before he could protest, she'd pulled two more from other pockets on her body.

"We take the guards out silently. If we move around there," She said, pointing to a tree that had fallen during a recent storm, "We'll be covered. No use using guns and drawing attention until later."

Sweet Pea inhaled, anxiety pulling at his stomach. Octavia noticed his expression.

"You ready for this?"

"Yeah, I can't imagine backing out now," He laughed, "Good luck to you, Kamikaze." He said. Octavia gave him a strange look.

"Me?"

"Yeah. They said this was a suicide mission, and nicknames are a big thing to me, so," He put his hands together, shrugging, "In my book, you- and Brad and Illian- are all worthy Serpents. If we make it out of this alive and you need a place to go, you're welcome with me. Southside Serpents are known for helping people figure out where they belong."

Octavia looked touched, an expression of gratitude so soft that it surprised Sweet Pea. He wondered if she'd ever really felt like she was meant to be somewhere and maybe the farm back with Betty was the answer.

"If we survive this," Octavia said, pulling her hair up into a ponytail, a wide and feral grin creeping across her face, "I'll keep that in mind. Now, anyone think they can top my goal of 75?"


End file.
